


Keeper of the Force

by Pandora151



Series: Protection [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (probably), Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Blood and Violence, Drama, Force Visions, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Illnesses, Medical Inaccuracies, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sickfic, Suspense, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force, Unreliable Narrator, Visions, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 67,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora151/pseuds/Pandora151
Summary: Twenty years before the Clone Wars began, the Force selected its Keeper.  Now, in the face of the intense turmoil plaguing the galaxy, the Force acts again.Anakin just wants everything to go back to how it was before, Ahsoka doesn't completely understand what is happening but is willing to do whatever she can to help, and Obi-Wan's past comes back to haunt him in a way he never expected.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Bant Eerin & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Plo Koon & Ahsoka Tano, Vokara Che & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Protection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973827
Comments: 510
Kudos: 767
Collections: Jedi-Friendly





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> First of all, I really hope all of you are doing okay and staying safe. I know it's been a really difficult time, especially with how quickly and drastically things have changed. Please stay safe, and stay strong.
> 
> So for anyone who's following me on [tumblr](https://pandora15.tumblr.com/), you may be familiar with my tumblr fic, Bedridden AU. I finally went ahead and decided to post that here! However, this version has been edited, updated, and reformatted, so you might notice some really slight differences between what's posted here and what's on Tumblr.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

When Anakin arrived at the Council Chambers to see the Council, he didn’t think much of Obi-Wan’s absence. He wasn’t the only Council member who wasn’t in attendance, and most of the Council was appearing only by hologram.

He assumed that Obi-Wan was too busy with some campaign. He didn’t know exactly where he was because Anakin only just returned from Bothawui with Ahsoka a few hours ago.

Once the meeting began, Anakin gave a verbal report of his mission on Bothawui, with Ahsoka interjecting a few times to explain her role when necessary.

The Council was awfully quiet.

Usually, there would be more questions, more pressing for details, but once Anakin was done, Master Windu simply nodded.

“We’ll give you a few days of leave,” he said softly. “I imagine you’d want to stop by the Halls.”

Anakin frowned. “Why?” he asked, confused.

Master Windu looked just as confused for just a brief moment before understanding flickered through his eyes. He looked around at the other Council members. “I believe we’ve addressed everything we needed to for this meeting, yes?” he asked.

Master Yoda nodded.

And with that, Anakin watched as the Council members’ holograms flickered out of existence, as other members stood and walked out of the room, leaving Anakin and Ahsoka with Master Windu.

“What’s going on?” Anakin demanded, feeling more nervous. Ahsoka remained silent.

“You really don’t know?” Master Windu asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Is everything okay, Master?” Ahsoka asked.

Master Windu closed his eyes. “I’d better take you to the Halls, then,” he said, standing up from his seat and leading them out of the chambers.

Anakin’s stomach churned. Something was wrong.

“Why?” he asked cautiously.  


Master Windu stopped and turned around to face him. “It’s Obi-Wan,” he replied.

* * *

When Anakin and Ahsoka arrived, Obi-Wan was sitting, propped up against the headboard of his bed, picking at a bowl of soup. He was hooked up to a few monitors, and there was an IV attached to his left wrist.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, voice shaking.

Obi-Wan looked up. There were dark shadows under his eyes, his face was pale, and he looked a lot thinner than the last time Anakin saw him.

Ahsoka cursed.

“Force, Master,” Anakin said, trying not to curse the same way Ahsoka did. “What happened?”

“Nothing of importance,” Obi-Wan replied mildly, putting his bowl down on the tray next to the bed. His voice was hoarse, as though he barely used it. “Who told you I was here?”

“Master Windu,” Ahsoka answered. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered. “I just…had a bit of an episode, and the healers insisted on keeping me here much longer than necessary.”

Anakin cocked his head sideways. “An episode?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “It’s nothing, really,” he insisted.

“It’s not nothing, Obi.”

Anakin turned around to see Bant standing at the entrance of the room, holding a datapad in her hand. She walked in and studied Obi-Wan’s monitors before looking at him carefully.

“You don’t look much better,” she commented, frowning. “Did you sleep and eat?”

Obi-Wan shrugged slightly.

“What exactly is going on here?” Anakin demanded.

“Obi-Wan had–”

“Bant.” Obi-Wan’s voice was suddenly firm, but Bant was having none of that.

“If you’re not going to tell them, then I will, Obi,” she exclaimed.

Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing at his temples with both hands.

Bant deflated. “They should know what happened,” she said, softly this time.

Obi-Wan exhaled and opened his eyes. “I had a stroke,” he said finally.

Anakin stared. He heard Ahsoka gasp quietly behind him.

“What?” he whispered. His heart was racing in his chest. “How?” he croaked.

“I…I thought it was a migraine,” Obi-Wan said. “It started out like that. Then it–” He cut himself off, and swallowed.

Bant placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“But…aren’t strokes supposed to be extremely rare? Especially among Jedi?” Anakin asked. And he was sure that Obi-Wan was way too young to be having a stroke. Something had to be wrong.

“They are,” Obi-Wan said, looking even more uncomfortable.

“But–” Anakin cut himself off sharply when Ahsoka elbowed him.

“Are you going to be okay, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked instead, smiling softly.

“I believe so,” Obi-Wan answered, barely managing to stifle a yawn as he spoke.

“I’ll talk to them about it, Obi,” Bant said softly. “Why don’t you sleep for a bit?” she asked. 

“I’m not tired,” Obi-Wan mumbled, though he looked completely exhausted.

“Stop lying,” Bant said, raising her brows. “You need to sleep. These two can come back to see you later,” she continued, gesturing at Anakin and Ahsoka.

Obi-Wan looked at them for a long moment before he sighed and began to shift slightly. Bant moved forward and helped Obi-Wan adjust himself so that he was lying down more properly.

“Sleep well, Master,” Anakin managed. He saw Obi-Wan smile at him before closing his eyes and relaxing into his pillows.

“Come with me,” Bant whispered, leading them out of the room to allow Obi-Wan to sleep.

* * *

“I’m just confused,” Anakin said, rubbing at his eyes with his flesh hand. “These things don’t just happen.”

Bant sighed and sat down next to Anakin.

“It’s an extremely rare case,” she agreed. “It’s difficult to explain, Anakin, and I think Obi-Wan wouldn’t appreciate me telling you exactly what’s happening without his knowledge.”

“What can you tell us, Master Eerin?” Ahsoka asked.

Bant smiled. “Just be there for him, okay?” she asked. “This came as a terrible shock to him, just like it must be for you right now. He feels very alone, and that’s not helping with his recovery.”

“Alone?” Anakin asked. “Why?”

“All of this was really scary for him,” Bant said. “That’s all I can really say.”

“But…he will be okay, right?” Ahsoka asked, eyes wide. She looked perfectly calm, calmer than Anakin somehow, but her presence in the Force was betraying more concern.

“Eventually,” Bant said, after a long pause that sent more worry crawling into Anakin’s veins. “It’s going to take time.”

The hesitation in her eyes seemed to say something completely different.

Anakin sighed and leaned back, resting his head on the wall behind him.

Bant’s commlink beeped. “I have to attend to other patients,” she sighed, looking down at the object. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”

Anakin nodded slowly. “Sure,” he said.

* * *

Anakin returned to the Halls by himself the next morning, since Ahsoka had to go to class. He was stopped by Bant outside of Obi-Wan’s room.

“Today is one of his bad days. If you want to leave and come back some other time, you can do that, Anakin,” she said.

Anakin stared and then shook his head. “You said he shouldn’t be alone,” he replied.

Bant smiled softly and moved out of the way, allowing him in.

Obi-Wan was lying on his side, vomiting into a bucket held by a medical droid. He was shaking and sweating profusely. As soon as Anakin walked in, he looked up.

“Anakin,” he slurred, rolling back onto the bed with a grunt.The medical droid walked away, presumably to dispose of the bucket’s contents, its joints whirring and clicking softly as it left, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan alone.

“Hi, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, moving forward to sit on the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed.

“You don’t…have to d-do this,” Obi-Wan breathed, closing his eyes tight.

Anakin ignored him, studying Obi-Wan carefully. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“Headache,” Obi-Wan mumbled. “Migraine. I don’t know, Anakin.”His voice was hoarse, probably from the vomiting.Anakin winced in sympathy.

Right. Anakin could feel the pain, whatever it was, in the Force. “Should I get a healer?” he asked.

Obi-Wan groaned and closed his eyes. “No,” he muttered. “This happens…m-more than I’d like.”He exhaled softly, shifting back into his pillows just slightly.His Force presence shuddered with a wave of deep discomfort.The sensation was so foreign to Anakin, especially coming from Obi-Wan, that he instinctively shrank away from it.

It felt… _wrong_ , almost.

Anakin wished he could do something to help, but he didn’t know what he could do.Obi-Wan never got sick—it was as though he just _refused_ to let his body shut down in any way possible.

This was new ground—completely unfamiliar.

“You can leave if you want,” Obi-Wan said, breaking Anakin away from his thoughts.

“I know,” Anakin said. “I’m not leaving.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long time before managing a weak smile.

Anakin sat comfortably and talked quietly with him for the next fifteen minutes. At some point, Obi-Wan began nodding off, and soon enough, he was asleep again.

Oh, well. Anakin wasn’t going to leave even if Obi-Wan was asleep. He was going to make sure that Obi-Wan never felt alone ever again.

* * *

Anakin must have nodded off at some point, because the next thing he knew, someone was gently shaking his shoulder.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Bant said gently. She was surrounded by a few padawan healers, all watching her expectantly. Obi-Wan was still asleep, and Anakin couldn’t help but wonder how much time had just passed. “We need to run some tests. Why don’t you get some lunch and come back later?”

“Tests?” Anakin asked, confused. Obi-Wan hadn’t mentioned anything about tests—in fact, he hadn’t really said anything of significance about his health.“Bant, what’s happening?”

She pressed her lips together. “I promise we’ll talk about it with Obi-Wan when you come back, okay?” she replied.

Anakin nodded slowly before he stood up and stretched, feeling a few joints pop. He walked out of the sickroom, somehow feeling more nervous than he did before.

As he walked to the refectory, he commed Ahsoka, who just got out of class. She agreed to meet him for lunch.

When he arrived in the refectory, Ahsoka was already there, standing in line to get food. He joined her.

“How’s Master Obi-Wan?” she asked immediately, picking up a piece of fruit and examining it carefully.

Anakin shrugged. “He wasn’t doing great in the morning, but he managed to fall asleep. They kicked me out to run some tests,” he said.

Ahsoka’s brow marks rose as she turned towards him. “Tests?” she said, echoing his thoughts.

“My best guess is that they want to figure out what caused the stroke,” Anakin replied, voice tense and quiet.The last thing he needed was other Jedi listening in on their conversation and having Obi-Wan become the new source of gossip in the Temple. 

“Bant said we’ll talk about it after they’re done.”

“Can I come?” Ahsoka asked, moving again to put some bread on her plate.She kept her voice quiet as well, but there was a hint of deep concern emanating from her presence.

Anakin was so lucky to have a Padawan like Ahsoka.

“Of course,” Anakin answered, smiling gently. “Obi-Wan shouldn’t be alone.”

* * *

Anakin and Ahsoka returned to the Halls later that afternoon. When they walked in to Obi-Wan’s room, he was sitting up. He turned his head and smiled as they entered.

“Good afternoon,” Obi-Wan greeted. He was still very pale and there were dark smudges under his eyes. Anakin forced himself to smile back, through the strange concern worming its way into his gut.

“How are you doing?” Anakin asked. He pulled a chair over to the bed and Ahsoka followed suit. They sat down.

“Better,” Obi-Wan answered, though if he was being honest, Anakin thought he didn’t look better at all. “You don’t need to see me, you know,” Obi-Wan continued.“I’m sure you have things to do.”

Anakin laughed, though the sound was slightly on the edge of brittle, unconvincing. “We’re on leave, Obi-Wan,” he said. “Don’t worry about us.”

Ahsoka nodded in agreement, looking at Anakin for a brief moment before turning towards Obi-Wan. “We’re here for you, Master,” she said.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said with a soft smile. “I know you’ve been worried. Bant told me as much.”

“She said that the healers had to run tests,” Anakin said, frowning. “Why? What’s happening, Obi-Wan?”

“I just…pushed myself too far over the past few weeks,” Obi-Wan said tersely.His Force presence seemed to withdraw into itself as he spoke, as though he was desperately keeping everyone away from him. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“But—”

“Anakin, really,” Obi-Wan said hoarsely. He shivered then, curling into himself slightly. “I’m fine.”

“You are _not_ fine,” Anakin insisted heatedly, gesturing around them to emphasize his point. “Just tell us what’s wrong, Obi-Wan!”

“Master, maybe you shouldn’t—” Ahsoka began, eyes widening.

“Why do you always insist on keeping things from me, Obi-Wan?” Anakin continued, as though he didn’t hear Ahsoka. “You never tell me anything! It’s as though you don’t trust me, or you don’t even _care_!”

Obi-Wan’s eyes were wide, and he seemed to be trembling more visibly.

“Anakin, I—” 

“ _No_ , Obi-Wan,” Anakin hissed, leaning forward. “I am trying to be there for you, but there is no point if you can’t tell me what is happening.”

Obi-Wan squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to take a few deep breaths. He was shivering more persistently, and his Force presence seemed to fold into itself more and more.

Anakin blinked.

The door swung open, revealing a furious Master Che and Bant, standing wide-eyed behind her.

“Both of you, _leave_ ,” Master Che barked, jabbing a finger towards the door. “I will _not_ have this sort of disruption in Master Kenobi’s healing.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but the healer cut him off with a sharp glare. He turned to Obi-Wan, who had brought his knees to his chest and pressed his head down on his kneecaps, wrapping his arms around his knees. He was still shaking, and Anakin could easily sense pain emanating from his Force presence.

_Force_ , what did he do?

“I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin said softly, more to Obi-Wan than Master Che. He glanced at Ahsoka, who nodded at him before they walked out of the room.

* * *

Once Skywalker was gone, Vokara raced forward to Obi-Wan. She placed a hand on his. “He’s _freezing_ ,” Vokara said to Bant. “Get some more thermal blankets.” Bant nodded and left the room.

“Obi-Wan?” Vokara said softly, slightly tightening the grip on his hand, trying to press as much warmth into it as she could.

“I just—” Obi-Wan’s voice was muffled. “Cold,” he said, teeth chattering.

“I know,” Vokara murmured gently. She moved carefully so she was sitting on the bed next to him, then she pressed both hands on his shoulders. Vokara closed her eyes, gently using the Force to channel warmth and calm.

“Have you had any more visions?” she asked quietly.

Obi-Wan nodded, still keeping his head pressed onto his knees. Vokara found herself thinking of the little Initiate who stumbled into the Halls all those years ago with a skinned knee.Everything had happened so quickly back then, especially for Obi-Wan.

A part of her couldn’t believe how much everything had changed since then.

She sighed.

Not long ago, the visions, along with the stress of the war and the fact that Obi-Wan hadn’t really been taking care of himself at all for Force-knows how long, crashed down at him all at once. Vokara would have been impressed with how long he lasted against all of it if it wasn’t so self-destructive.

Obi-Wan managed a deep, shuddering breath before he lifted his head, revealing watery eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbled, quickly wiping away at them.

“Don’t apologize,” she said. “I know this has been difficult for you.”

Whatever Obi-Wan saw in his visions had shaken him to his core. He refused to talk about it, even to the mind healers that Vokara sent to him.

The constant chronic stress that plagued him sapped away his strength, and the Force provided no help, no relief at all.

Bant arrived with the blankets and carefully wrapped the blankets around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Obi-Wan smiled gratefully at her.

“Well?” Obi-Wan asked, looking up at Bant before his eyes shifted to Vokara’s.

Bant took a deep breath. “Your cardiac function is lower than it should be because you haven’t been taking care of yourself. Your blood is not circulating well. That is why you had the stroke, Obi-Wan,” she explained.

“This is all due to stress,” Vokara said. “If you don’t let yourself relax and take care of yourself, it’s only going to get worse.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “My visions, I can’t just—”

“Obi, you need to tell someone about the visions. It doesn’t have to be either of us; we can set you up with a mind healer, or—”

“ _No_ ,” Obi-Wan said between gritted teeth. “I can deal with it; I’ve done it before.”

“You were a _child_ with the support of the crèche masters, Obi,” Bant insisted. “Maybe you think you can deal with it because you’ve done so in the past, but in the past you had someone help you!”

Obi-Wan shook his head and shivered again, burrowing himself slightly under the blankets.

Vokara shook her discreetly at Bant. It was no use; this conversation was only making things worse.

Bant softened and nodded back at Vokara.

“I’ll send along some lunch for you to eat,” Vokara said. “I’m also going to send along a healer to help you with moving around. That should improve the circulation.”

Obi-Wan exhaled and nodded. “Thank you, Master Che,” he murmured.

“Just focus on getting better,” Vokara replied. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

* * *

Anakin went back to the Halls later that evening. He couldn’t leave things with Obi-Wan the way he did. He knew he pushed too much, but he couldn’t help it. Obi-Wan wasn’t telling him something, and it hurt.

When he walked in, Obi-Wan was sitting in bed with a heavy blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said in greeting, looking up.His eyes were dark and weary, somehow revealing more exhaustion than Anakin expected.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Anakin said. “I just—you know I’m worried, right? I can’t stand seeing you like this, and I want to help.”

Obi-Wan smiled gently, but the sight of it did nothing to ease the nerves building in Anakin’s stomach. “I know,” he replied, “and I know that Bant promised to tell you what was happening, but…”

“But what?” Anakin pressed.

“But I’m not ready to talk about it.”

Anakin blinked. “Why?” he managed, then he frowned. “I mean—you know you can talk to me, right? Why can’t you—”

“I _can’t_ , Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and he looked up again, eyes wild and desperate. “I appreciate you being here, but…” Obi-Wan trailed off, looking away from him. “I can’t.”

Anakin desperately wanted to argue, but he pressed his lips together and nodded. “Okay, Master,” he replied. 

Obi-Wan smiled at him again. “Now, tell me, how was Bothawui?” he asked, changing the topic.

Anakin sat down in the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed and spoke, allowing himself the distraction. If Obi-Wan wouldn’t tell him what was happening, Anakin would find another way to get the truth. He _needed_ to know.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

Over the next few days, Anakin spent as much time has he could visiting Obi-Wan in the Halls.

Some days, Obi-Wan seemed to be doing alright. He would sit in his bed and talk with Anakin, though he didn’t talk as much as he did before all of this happened. Obi-Wan would mostly just listen to Anakin talk about whatever he wanted.

Those days weren’t too bad. Anakin would sit and do his best to get Obi-Wan to laugh or even smile, and seeing that happen—as rarely as it did—would make him feel like everything was eventually going to be alright.

But there were other days when Obi-Wan would be doing less well. He would either be in too much pain to even listen to Anakin, let alone speak. There would be healers coming in every few hours to run tests or to try to help Obi-Wan in some way, though it seemed like nothing they did was actually helping him.

The Council had extended his leave when Anakin asked, much to his surprise.

Sure, he was needed at the war, but…

But he couldn’t possibly leave Obi-Wan like this.And the Council seemed to understand that.

He walked into Obi-Wan’s room one day to find his former Master pale-faced but sitting upright, staring at the wall in front of him.

“Obi-Wan?” he asked, moving to sit in the chair next to his bed.

Obi-Wan blinked slowly, and his eyes flicked to Anakin’s. Then his eyes widened, and he scrambled back, shrinking away from Anakin.

Terror flooded into the Force, freezing Anakin’s blood in his veins.He remained standing behind the chair, heart racing in his chest.

“Get _away_ from me,” Obi-Wan hissed, and just like that, there were tears spilling out of his eyes.

Anakin blinked, taking a few steps forward.

Almost immediately, Obi-Wan shrank back even further, pressing back against the headboard.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Obi-Wan whispered, eyes bright. “You—you _killed_ them, as though they didn’t matter to you! You threw away everything I ever tried to teach you, and now you’ve just—”

Obi-Wan cut himself off with a painful sob, bowing his head slightly as he began to hyperventilate.

Anakin’s blood went cold.

“Obi-Wan, I—”

Gritting his teeth, Obi-Wan pulled himself off the bed and onto his feet, shaking violently. His Force presence was trembling, shuddering, almost _burning_ at the seams. Anakin could see the sweat gathered on his forehead, the brightness of his eyes.

_He’s hallucinating—or something like that._

“I’ve done what I could,” Obi-Wan said between heavy breaths, pointing at Anakin, “and you just…”

He staggered into the wall behind him, placing a hand on his forehead. Then his knees buckled, and he crashed to the floor with a pained exhale.

“Master!” Anakin shouted, racing forward.

Obi-Wan looked up with flashing eyes, breathing heavily. “Stay _back_!” he shouted, flinging a hand forward.

Anakin felt the Force push, but it felt more like a breeze passing through him than an actual push.Regardless, he stopped, realizing that moving closer would only agitate Obi-Wan further.

Discreetly pressing a button on his comm, Anakin stopped. “Listen to me, Obi-Wan, this isn’t real,” he said, voice trembling. “It’s me, Anakin—remember?”

His Master’s eyes narrowed. “Anakin is _dead_. You killed him, Vader, just like you killed everyone else.”

_Everyone else?_

“Obi-Wan, I promise, it’s actually me. You’re having a vision or a hallucination or something. You’ve been in the Halls for the past few weeks, remember?You’ve been sick,” Anakin said, trying to keep his voice calm.

Frowning, Obi-Wan pressed his hands to his temples. Then he shook his head, almost violently.

“No,” he mumbled, more to himself. “You _destroyed_ him, and now the Jedi have—”

The door slid open, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as Master Che rushed in, followed closely by Bant.

“Obi!” Bant cried, rushing forward, but she stopped as Obi-Wan let out a strangled sound, pressing his head into his hands.

“This is not real, this is not real, this is not real…”

Anakin watched as Bant froze, her large eyes filling with tears. Master Che stood frozen in the doorway, too stunned to move. In all the years he had known Master Che and Bant, Anakin had never seen either of them completely shaken to the core.

The sight of it now was enough to cause Anakin to panic.

Obi-Wan was always steady, completely rooted in the present. _He_ was the one calming Anakin down when he was overwhelmed, not the other way around. It was Obi-Wan, not Anakin, who was always grounded and levelheaded.

This was…

“Master, _please_ ,” Anakin pleaded, voice cracking. “This is real. Would I lie to you?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Anakin regretted it.

He _was_ lying to Obi-Wan, about Padmé and the Tuskens and about _so_ much more—and a part of Anakin suspected that Obi-Wan _knew_ about the lies.

“Everything is a lie,” Obi-Wan whispered, and pulled his hands away from his face. 

Blood slowly trickled out of his nose and into his mustache. His face was completely white, thinner than it was just a few weeks ago, before all of this had happened.

“How does it feel to have won, Vader?” Obi-Wan asked softly, looking at Anakin with unfocused eyes.

Before Anakin could reply, Obi-Wan’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped sideways against the wall, exhaling harshly.

Behind Anakin, Master Che sprung into action, rushing forward and kneeling next to Obi-Wan. Bant followed moments later, kneeling at Obi-Wan’s other side.

Anakin stared, too shocked to speak. He couldn’t bring himself to react, not even when two Padawan Healers rushed in with a stretcher or even when Obi-Wan was loaded onto the stretcher and taken away.

Only when Anakin was alone did he finally let his own tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I'm aiming to post the next part on Sunday, April 19th, but if anything changes, I will update this note to reflect that.
> 
> Thanks again, and see you next time :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin discovers the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Here's the second chapter. Enjoy! :)

Anakin couldn’t remember much of what happened next. At some point, Bant returned. Then, she told him that Obi-Wan would likely be unconscious for the rest of the day and that it would be best if Anakin left.

“I will let you know once I have an update,” she promised.

So Anakin left, walking aimlessly through the Temple’s corridors, until he walked into the dojo.

He didn’t really remember how long he was there, either. All he knew was that by the time Ahsoka found him, his muscles were burning, it was almost midnight, and she apparently had spent most of the day searching for him.

The next day arrived, but Anakin did not hear anything from Bant or from any of the Healers.

Ahsoka kept asking him about what happened in the Ward the previous day, but he didn’t exactly know what to say. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, let alone to someone else.

It was just after lunch when he finally received a message from Bant.

When he arrived at the Ward, Bant greeted him outside of Obi-Wan’s room.

“Don’t agitate him, Anakin,” she said softly. “He’s not doing well today. I’m only allowing you to see him because I know you’re concerned about what happened yesterday.”

“I understand,” Anakin replied, though he felt as though none of this was real, as though he would look next to him and Obi-Wan would be standing there, completely normal and perfectly alright.

He so desperately wished for that to be true.

Taking a deep breath, he walked in.

Obi-Wan was reclining slightly on the bed, propped up with a few pillows, eyes closed. For a moment, it looked like he was asleep, but Anakin could sense a level of awareness from Obi-Wan in the Force.

“Master?” he asked softly.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed slightly before he opened his eyes, revealing an exhaustion Anakin had never seen before.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but then he shuddered, curling into himself slightly.

“You need to tell me what’s going on, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said gently, sitting next to the bed.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan replied, squeezing his eyes shut. “I realize I must have worried you yesterday. I’m sorry.”

Anakin sputtered.

“ _Worried_?” Anakin echoed, voice rising along with ire. “I—you thought we were all dead! And that I was someone called Vader.” 

“Did I?” Obi-Wan replied, though for some reason he didn’t seem that surprised.

“Yes!” Anakin shouted, and Obi-Wan flinched, his Force presence shuddering and pulling away slightly.

Closing his eyes, Anakin let out a slow breath.Staying calm was _difficult_ , but he knew he had to do it.

“Master, I’m worried,” he admitted. “You’re…not alright, and there’s something more to this that you’re not telling me.”

When he opened his eyes, Anakin found Obi-Wan looking at him strangely, eyes alight with confusion.

“Master?” he asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged a shoulder and swallowed. Then he squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his fingers up to his temples. Pain slipped past his shields, flooding into the Force, causing Anakin’s blood to go cold.

“Master?” Anakin repeated, desperately trying to keep his voice quiet.

“I’m—please, just leave me alone,” Obi-Wan murmured, more to himself than to Anakin. “Don’t do this, Qui-Gon.”

With a pained exhale, Obi-Wan bowed his head, bringing his hands up to cover his face.

“I can’t do this, Master, not after Anakin—”

Obi-Wan cut himself off, pulling his hands away from his face and looking at Anakin sharply, though there was a haze of pain and confusion still surrounding his Force presence.

“I should have taken your place on Naboo,” Obi-Wan murmured, looking away. “Then you would have trained Anakin, and everything would have been alright.”

Anakin jumped out of his chair. “Master, snap out of it!” he cried, placing both hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

Obi-Wan looked up at him before he brought a hand up to his forehead.

“I’m…” he mumbled, frowning at Anakin. “Qui-Gon, why—”

Then, Anakin felt all the tension in Obi-Wan’s shoulders slip away. Obi-Wan slumped forwards, his head brushing against Anakin’s chest, unconscious.

The door slid open, revealing Bant. Anakin immediately realized that she was standing outside the door the whole time, presumably waiting for something to happen.

“He’s been like that since he woke up after the incident yesterday,” she said softly. Bant quickly adjusted Obi-Wan so he was lying down more properly and quickly looked over the vitals monitors he was hooked up to.

Then she sighed.

“We need to talk, Anakin,” she said softly. “I had hoped that Obi-Wan would tell you everything, but it’s looking more and more like that he can’t.”

Anakin swallowed, distantly wondering when exactly his throat became so dry.

“He’s getting worse.” Anakin’s voice cracked as he spoke.

Bant nodded in confirmation.

Closing his eyes, Anakin let out another breath.

“He didn’t want you to worry like this, Anakin,” Bant said gently.

“It’s too late for that,” Anakin replied. “I’m…Bant, I’m _terrified_.”

The Mon Calamari healer paused, closing her eyes.

“Me too,” she whispered.

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan. Were it not for the terrible pallor in his former Master’s face, the dark smudges under his eyes, and the strange unsteadiness emanating from his Force presence, Anakin would have thought that Obi-Wan was merely sleeping.

He couldn’t lose Obi-Wan, not like this.

“Come with me, Anakin. I’d rather not disturb him while we talk,” Bant said, eyes shining.

Anakin swallowed. “You’re going to tell me everything?”

The Mon Calamari healer nodded. “It’s a long story, but yes. You need to know the truth.”

With a final glance at the unconscious Obi-Wan, Anakin turned and followed Bant out of the room.

It was time to hear the truth.

* * *

Bant lead Anakin out of the Halls to one of the smaller meditation rooms, saying that it was best if they spoke in private.

It made sense, Anakin supposed, but something about Bant’s need for secrecy made him worry even more.

There was _something_ about Obi-Wan that Bant knew. Whatever it was, it explained what was happening to him right now, and it seemed like it was something deeply personal to Obi-Wan.

After Bant closed the door, she moved to one of the meditation cushions, motioning at Anakin to sit across from her. Anakin sat, looking expectedly at Bant.

The Mon Calamari let out a long breath, her eyes bright and expressive.

“Anakin,” she said finally, voice soft, “this is something extremely personal to Obi-Wan. I had hoped he would tell you eventually, but…”

Anakin closed his eyes as an image of Obi-Wan staring up at him with glazed eyes, shrinking away from him, calling him _Vader_ for some reason.

“I’m telling you this so you can help him,” Bant continued, voice shaking slightly.“So you can be there for him, because…he’ll need you, Anakin.”

Anakin nodded, and Bant exhaled again, as though she was preparing herself.

“This is…not the first time something like this has happened to Obi-Wan.”

Anakin blinked, shock worming its way through his veins, freezing his body to the spot.

The Force shuddered.

Bant frowned. “Well, the stroke was a first,” she amended. “It never got that bad before.”

Anakin swallowed. “What do you mean?”

Another sigh, and Bant’s shoulders slumped.

“We were very young—Obi was about five years old when it all started, I believe. We were both in the crèche, in the same clan, as I’m sure you know.” Bant’s eyes met his, and Anakin felt the urge to look away at something else, _anything_ else.

He didn’t.

“Obi-Wan would sometimes get visions during the night,” Bant continued. “At first, they were mild. He would get tired from the lack of sleep, but short naps during the day would help.”

Visions? Obi-Wan had never mentioned that he had visions in the past. In fact, when Anakin was having visions of his mother’s death before Geonosis, all Obi-Wan told him was that dreams passed in time.

And, of course, that did not help matters when his mother died anyways, despite Anakin’s efforts to save her.

“Then, the visions got worse.” Bant’s voice trembled slightly. “We would hear him screaming during the night, _every_ night. The crèchemasters eventually had to separate him from the rest of us while we slept, and they had to take turns monitoring him.”

“Does that happen a lot?Like in general?” Anakin asked.

“To other people?” At Anakin’s nod, Bant sighed. “Well, sometimes other younglings would get the occasional intense vision or nightmare, and the Masters would separate take them to another room to console them and bring them some peace.”

“Right,” Anakin said, remembering the few times he had volunteered in the crèche as a Padawan. He’d witnessed it himself, but it was a rare occurrence. In fact, visions that intense were limited to only a few Jedi.

He just never realized that Obi-Wan was among those few.

“But this was happening every night for Obi-Wan, and eventually, they got so bad that Master Yoda had to come in and help.”

It was a well-known fact in the Temple that Master Yoda was well-versed with visions. He remembered, in the horrible days that followed Geonosis, Obi-Wan gently suggesting that Anakin speak to Yoda about the visions he had about his mother.

In a fit of furious rage, Anakin had brushed him off, though he also knew that going to Yoda may easily result in the Grandmaster finding out exactly what he had done to the Tuskens after his mother died, and…

No. That couldn’t happen. _Especially_ now.

“Despite Master Yoda’s efforts, it didn’t help, and the visions were getting worse,” Bant whispered, eyes wide and distant. “Obi-Wan wouldn’t sleep at all, and his connection to the Force was beginning to get tenuous. Despite that, the visions still came.”

Her voice trembled, and Anakin watched as she pressed both hands to her eyes and took deep breaths to center herself.

“Then what happened?” he croaked.

Bant shook her head, pulling her hands back into her lap.

“Then, Obi-Wan began having waking visions during the day,” she said simply. “It was nearly unheard of in the crèche. Master Yoda had only witnessed it once before, _centuries_ ago, and even that was only one time.”

Anakin’s blood ran cold. “Waking visions?” he asked. “Are they visions that happen while the person is awake?”

Bant shuddered and nodded. “They’re awful. They usually led to seizures, and afterwards, Obi-Wan would be delirious and in a lot of pain. He would talk about things that didn’t make sense at all, including someone named Vader.”

“You’re not the first person he called by that name, by the way,” she murmured, and Anakin felt a rush of relief at her words.

“Does he remember the visions afterwards?” Anakin asked, remembering hearing about visions that were often forgotten in the throes of sleep.

Bant shrugged. “Sometimes, but he’d never say anything. They were terrible, that’s all I know. Master Yoda or even some of the older crèchemasters might know a little bit more, but Obi-Wan refused to say anything, even when I asked.”

Anakin couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, to witness Obi-Wan seeing horrible visions, day and night, without mercy. And he was only a _child_ at the time, which made things even more awful.

“Not long after that, he was admitted to the Halls,” she said. “He didn’t sleep, barely ate, and his body was barely able to sustain itself under so much strain. It was…the crèchemasters told us, one time, that he would most likely join the Force.”

Anakin’s heart leapt to his throat, and he swallowed.

“But that didn’t happen,” he protested with a feeble voice.

Bant nodded. “Just as quickly the visions came, they stopped,” she said. “It took a few months for Obi-Wan to recover enough to return to the crèche, and even longer to be able to return to lessons and activities. By the time he did, he was about a year behind the rest of his year-mates.”

“Did they ever figure out why they stopped?” Anakin asked.

Bant shrugged a shoulder. “Obi-Wan always said it was the will of the Force, which is a bunch of bantha-shavit, if you ask me,” she snorted.

Anakin closed his eyes and uncrossed his legs, stretching them in front of him. He was reeling from everything Bant just told him, and he wanted nothing more than to run back to Obi-Wan and cry into his shoulder.

Instead, he took a deep breath.

“So the visions have returned?” he asked.

Bant nodded. “It happened very suddenly,” she murmured. “After Obi-Wan returned from Felucia, he said he felt slightly under the weather and requested leave from the Council.”

She shrugged. “In hindsight, the fact that he requested the leave at all probably meant that he might have had a few visions during the mission. Commander Cody did report some concerns about Obi-Wan’s health, but I think the Council thought it was just exhaustion and war-related stress.”

“But that was over two weeks before Ahsoka and I returned from Bothawui,” Anakin said, tilting his head. “I remember because Obi-Wan sent me a transmission after he returned to the Temple.”

Bant nodded. “I noticed that he seemed to be really tired whenever I spoke to him, but I assumed it was the war, not—”

She cut herself off, squeezing her eyes shut.

“He was deteriorating fast, Anakin, and he wasn’t saying anything about it,” she whispered. “When I was beginning to think that maybe his visions had somehow returned, I was too late.”

Swallowing, Anakin nodded in understanding. Everything made sense now—the hallucinations, the uncertainty, the _hiding_ …

Whatever he expected Bant to tell him, this wasn’t it. If he was being honest, Anakin didn’t know what to expect, but he assumed it would be something less complicated.

This…made no sense.

“No one knows how the visions started?” he asked softly.

Bant sighed softly, shifting to stretch out her legs. “That’s why Master Che was running tests before,” she explained. “But things are getting worse much more quickly than last time, and Master Che is running out of options.”

Anakin’s mouth went dry. “Then…what now? What do we do?”

Bant’s eyes closed, her mouth forming into a thin line.

“We hope,” she replied, voice cracking, “and prepare ourselves for the worst.”

In a split-second, Anakin was on his feet, towering over the Mon Calamari healer.

“ _No_ ,” he gritted, voice sharp and volatile. “We can’t just give up; there must be something—”

“Anakin, we’ve tried everything we could think of,” Bant said, looking up at him with bright eyes. “Master Che and Master Yoda are researching whatever they can to find a solution, but…”

Blinking slowly, Anakin felt the heavy pressure of tears building behind his eyelids, as his vision blurred.

“I’m sorry, Anakin.”

Anakin forced a few deep breaths through his nose, willing the tears back, forcing his voice to work.

“I can’t—I can’t _lose_ him,” he rasped, voice shuddering deep in his throat. “I’m—”

The shrill beeping of Bant’s commlink cut him off mid-sentence, and Bant brought her wrist up to her face, accepting the call.

“Bant here,” she murmured, voice thick.

_“Master Eerin,_ ” an unfamiliar voice chirped urgently.

“Yes, Vyna?” Bant answered, sitting up properly as her forehead creased in deep concentration.

_“It’s Master Kenobi,”_ Vyna said, voice crackling slightly. _“He’s awake again, and it appears that he is lucid. He’s asking to speak with you right away.”_

A whirlwind of emotions flickered through Bant’s face, so quickly that Anakin couldn’t make sense of any of them, before her features settled on neutral determination.

“I’m on the way,” she replied.

* * *

By the time they returned to the Halls, Anakin’s stomach was a knot of nerves settled cold and deep within him. He felt like he couldn’t breathe properly, like there was something lodged in his chest that stopped his lungs from expanding.

Bant was quiet as they walked towards Obi-Wan’s room, her features set in deep concentration.

Bant paused outside of Obi-Wan’s door, telling Anakin that she would stop by to speak to Obi-Wan in a few minutes. With a nod and a deep breath, Anakin walked in alone, unsure of what to expect.

He was immediately greeted with the sight of Obi-Wan sitting upright on the bed, eyes closed. As soon as Anakin stepped inside, Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open, revealing a focused intensity he hadn’t seen from him since…before all of this happened.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan rasped, and despite the lucidity and clarity in his eyes, there was exhaustion in the way he sat slumped against the headboard, in the dark smudges under his eyes.

Even now, there was a guardedness in Obi-Wan’s eyes, something _different_ and unfamiliar.

Worry wormed its way up Anakin’s throat, cold and desperate.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin replied, and he moved closer, almost hesitating.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Anakin. “Something isn’t right,” he murmured. “Did you—what happened?”

Exhaling slowly, Anakin sat in the chair next to the bed.

“Bant told me the truth,” he said finally. “About…the visions, and what happened when you were a child.”

When Obi-Wan didn’t immediately reply, Anakin’s stomach twisted even further, and he felt nausea curling in his chest.

Obi-Wan’s eyes closed again, but he gave no other indication that he heard Anakin speak at all.

“Please say something,” Anakin pleaded. He wanted— _needed_ —Obi-Wan to talk about it, to tell him the truth. It was about time he heard the truth.

Obi-Wan sighed, opening his eyes to look directly at Anakin.

“I…can’t,” Obi-Wan replied, voice hollow. “There isn’t much time. I need to speak with Bant, _now_.”

Cold fury curled deep in Anakin’s gut, and it felt good and horrible all at once. He gave into it easily, letting the fire ignite his veins in a way that burned painfully and wonderfully at the same time.

“You’ve _lied_ to me, for all these years, and even now you refuse to say anything?” Anakin snapped, moving to lean directly over Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan met his gaze evenly. 

“Get Bant,” he rasped, but then his features crumpled. The Force let out a cry of warning before Obi-Wan groaned sharply, leaning his head forwards to rest it on his kneecaps.

A series of harsh, uneven breaths echoed through the room, freezing the burning fury rushing through Anakin’s veins.

“Obi-Wan?” he asked, voice shaking. He reached a hand towards his former Master’s shoulder as the door slid open behind him.

Anakin watched as Bant rushed over to the other side of the bed, placing both of her hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Anakin felt something in the Force shift as the tension left Obi-Wan’s body, though the ragged breaths continued to echo through the room, almost eerily.

“Obi-Wan?” Bant asked softly. “Maybe you should lie down now. I can give you a sleep suggest—”

“No.” A harsh exhale, and Obi-Wan lifted his head, revealing a weariness Anakin had never seen from him before. The sight of it sent ice into his veins. “Bant, I must—I must speak to you. Alone.”

Bant’s features twisted into confusion, and she looked over at Anakin apologetically.

“Whatever you can say to her, Obi-Wan, you can say to—”

“ _No_.” Obi-Wan’s voice was firm, unwavering.Then his features softened. “I’m sorry, Anakin.”

“You wish to keep more secrets from me, even now?” Anakin asked incredulously. “Bant told me the truth, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan sighed, looking up at Anakin once again. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice quiet. He closed his eyes again, slumping back against the headboard with a sharp exhale.

“Fine,” Anakin gritted, and he turned around and left, conflicting emotions swirling deep in his gut.

As soon as the door slid shut behind him, Anakin leaned back against the wall next to the door, closing his eyes.

He couldn’t believe it. Anakin understood Obi-Wan’s reservations about not telling him the truth earlier—there was no good way to explain all of this, and Anakin was sure it was something Obi-Wan wasn’t completely comfortable talking about.

But now, Anakin _knew_ the truth. Why would Obi-Wan still want to keep things from him, if he knew the truth? It made no sense.

Anakin groaned, slamming the fist of his flesh hand onto the wall next to him.

“Master?”

Anakin jumped, eyes opening to the sight of his padawan standing directly in front of him, head tilted slightly.

“Ahsoka,” he replied, and his voice broke in his throat. “What are you—what are you doing here?”

“I just finished class,” she said slowly, eyes narrowed in curiosity, “and I wanted to see how Master Obi-Wan was doing.”

He still hadn’t told Ahsoka what about what had happened yesterday—about the delusion, the hallucinations. She had asked, multiple times, and Anakin had refused to answer. He couldn’t bear speaking about it.

Anakin should have realized that Ahsoka would try to seek Obi-Wan out on her own.

With a quiet sigh, Anakin allowed his legs to fold underneath him, and he sat against the wall, Ahsoka sitting across from him.

“I—” he began, and his voice cracked horribly again.

Ahsoka’s features softened.

He opened his mouth to at least say something, but instead, a loud, hiccuping sob escaped him.

The next thing he knew, there were arms wrapping around his shoulders, a small hand rubbing his scalp as his head fell onto Ahsoka’s shoulder.

She held him as he shook with the force of his tears, whispering softly, her warm Force presence bringing stability to his horribly-shaken world.

“It’s alright,” she whispered softly. “It’s all gonna be alright.”

And, for a moment, Anakin allowed himself to believe her.

* * *

As soon as Anakin stormed out of the room, Bant sighed, turning back towards Obi-Wan, who looked at her with bright, weary eyes.

Instinctively, she reached a hand to touch his forehead and immediately flinched at the intense heat emanating from him.

“You’re burning up,” she murmured.

“It doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan responded, voice slurring slightly. “There is something I need you to do, before it’s too late.”

“Obi-Wan, I—”

“No,” he said firmly, and he squeezed his eyes shut, teeth chattering as he shook violently.

Bant quickly sat herself next to him, ignoring the terrible feverish heat she could feel through his clothing. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, focusing on keeping her Force presence cool and calm.

“Listen to me,” Obi-Wan said after a few moments, eyes opening.

Bant nodded slowly, and Obi-Wan shifted, pulling himself away so he could look at her directly.

Despite the terrible pallor in his face, the sweat gathered on his forehead, the tremors wracking his frame, his eyes were steady and clear.

“Anakin is Vader.”

The certainty in Obi-Wan’s voice was the only thing that stopped her from gasping in shock.

“Or rather—he _will_ be,” Obi-Wan continued, and he closed his eyes in terrible anguish. His Force presence shuddered, and Bant’s heart wrenched at the feeling of it.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

They had spoken about Vader a few times over the years. At first, as Qui-Gon’s Padawan, Obi-Wan seemed to believe the figure to be merely a figment of his imagination stemming from the visions because the Sith had been gone for centuries.

But then the Sith returned.

After the Battle of Naboo, Obi-Wan was extremely shaken by the realization that there may have been an element of truth to the visions. In the months that followed Qui-Gon’s death, Bant often found Obi-Wan pacing in front of one of the waterfalls in the Room of a Thousand Fountains in the middle of the night, muttering to himself.

On one of those nights, she confronted him about it, and in a halting voice, Obi-Wan had told her that if the Sith had truly returned, the Jedi would fall, betrayed by one of their own. By Vader.

At the time, the idea seemed so impossible that Bant immediately reassured him that it wouldn’t happen, and Obi-Wan allowed himself to believe her.

But then the war started.

Even then, Bant couldn’t bring herself to believe that _any_ of the Jedi would betray them the way Obi-Wan said Vader does.

It still seemed too…terrible.

The possibility of the Jedi Order falling seemed so unlikely, even now.

“I am,” Obi-Wan replied, voice hoarse. “Anakin is…he will turn to the Dark Side, and he will betray and destroy us. _All_ of us.”

If Bant wasn’t already sitting down, she would have fallen down by now, by the sheer amount of shock she felt.

“The visions were— _are_ —a warning,” Obi-Wan said, and he trembled again, teeth chattering. “There is only one way to stop this, and in order to get there, my mind must be clear.”

Bant frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can stop Anakin from falling,” Obi-Wan murmured, bowing his head. “The Force sent me these visions as a warning, but they have become too much for my body to handle. If we don’t do anything now…” His voice trailed off, and he looked directly at Bant.

“You’ll die,” she whispered, and tears slipped down her cheeks. She wiped at them quickly.

“Anakin needs me,” Obi-Wan said firmly, and for a moment, he sounded almost like he usually did—calm and certain. “Therefore, we need to stop the visions.”

“So you can survive,” Bant realized, frowning again. “But how? We weren’t able to do it before. And these visions are a lot worse now than they were before, Obi.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swallowed, a terrible sadness emanating so suddenly from his Force presence that Bant found herself stunned by the despair that flooded the Force.

“Obi-Wan?” she asked softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He opened his eyes and looked directly at her, eyes clear.

“There is only one way, Bant,” he said firmly. “You must sever my connection to the Force.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently working on the next chapter, and I'm hoping it'll be ready by Sunday, May 3rd. Stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for reading and please leave a comment on your way out :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin and Ahsoka search for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! The Clone Wars finale has wrecked me emotionally, so here's an emotional chapter. Enjoy! :)

They sat side-by-side in comfortable silence.

Ahsoka’s presence in the Force was bright and warm, an unexpected stability from someone so young. Despite that, Anakin found himself clinging to that stability, realizing that this was what he did years ago with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan, who had always seemed to be predictable and stable and normal. Obi-Wan, whose own Force presence was now barely discernible, a single flickering pinprick of light compared to Anakin’s supernova and Ahsoka’s warm brightness.

The unfamiliarity of it sent him reeling, longing for the moments when he could easily reach for Obi-Wan’s presence whenever he longed for its stability.

Anakin let out a sigh, and Ahsoka’s hand, still holding onto his flesh hand, squeezed reassuringly.

“You want to know what happened.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Ahsoka hummed in response. “You...I can sense that it upsets you, Master. I won’t make you talk about it if you don’t want to,” she replied, voice quiet.

Anakin swallowed, leaning his head back against the wall.

Ahsoka was right—he was reeling from everything he had just learned, and more than anything, he wanted answers from Obi-Wan.

“When did you get so wise, Snips?” he asked, voice cracking in his throat.

His padawan shrugged a shoulder in response.

The door next to them slid open, and Bant walked out.

“Master Eerin?” Ahsoka asked, and she was already on her feet, moving towards the Mon Calamari healer.

Bant swallowed, focusing wide, stunned eyes on Anakin and Ahsoka. In all the years that Anakin had known her, he had never seen Bant so unsettled, so shaken to the core.

Something happened, and whatever it was seemed to have completely thrown Bant off guard.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin croaked, pulling himself to his feet. He felt cold and uncertain all of a sudden, as though the ground would collapse under his feet and pull him under.

Bant shook her head. “Nothing; I just—” She cut herself off, shaking her head again. She turned towards Ahsoka with a frown. “Ahsoka, has Anakin told you anything?”

“Not exactly,” Ahsoka replied. “I know that Master Kenobi hasn’t really been getting better. That’s why I came, to see if I can help. If he doesn’t wish for me to know the rest of it, that’s fine.”

The Mon Calamari healer smiled softly, placing a hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “You can both see him; he’s still awake,” she murmured, looking up at Anakin. “Don’t agitate him.”

Before Anakin could even think to reply, Ahsoka piped up, “We won’t, Master Eerin!” She grabbed Anakin’s hand and pulled him towards the door.

Before she opened it, Ahsoka paused, turning to face Anakin.

“It’s going to be alright, Master,” Ahsoka said confidently, eyes bright. “We have to believe it, for Master Obi-Wan’s sake.”

* * *

“You came back,” Obi-Wan said in greeting, looking up at Anakin with a strange expression in his eyes. “I thought...I thought you would have left by now.”

The room’s lights were only slightly dimmer than before, but Anakin could still easily see the exhaustion glimmering in Obi-Wan’s eyes. The bed was now angled so that Obi-Wan was reclining more comfortably, instead of sitting slumped against the headboard, like he was earlier.

Anakin let out a breath. “I didn’t,” he replied, unsure of what to say.

It seemed like Ahsoka was not having the same problem.

“How are you doing, Master Kenobi?” she piped up, sitting down on the stool next to the bed. “Sorry I haven’t been here in a while; classes have been keeping me busy.”

The soft smile that formed on Obi-Wan’s face twisted at Anakin’s heart. On the surface, it appeared to be a bright, normal smile, but there was a hint of desperate sadness in the Force.

_Why do I feel like something is terribly wrong?_

“It’s been difficult, young one,” Obi-Wan replied. “I...I don’t suppose Anakin told you what’s been happening?” His voice was almost hesitant, and there was a familiar level of guardedness in his eyes.

“No, but that’s alright; I don’t—”

Obi-Wan held up a hand, closing his eyes for a moment. “Anakin and I haven’t talked about it yet, and I’m sure he would tell you eventually. Right, Anakin?” And with that, Obi-Wan was looking at him pointedly.

“I...yes, I suppose,” Anakin murmured, and he sat down next to his padawan. “It would be...good to hear it from your point of view, Obi-Wan. I only know what Bant told me.”

“But only if you want to, Master,” Ahsoka insisted.

Another smile crossed Obi-Wan’s face, though this one was definitely sadder than the last one. “I appreciate your concern, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

A few moments paused before Obi-Wan opened his eyes again.

“As you probably know, I am not particularly aligned with the Living Force, like Master Qui-Gon had been,” Obi-Wan began. “My abilities are more aligned with the Unifying Force. They always have been.”

Ahsoka’s face was scrunched into a frown, her confusion emanating easily into the Force. “What does that have to do with—”

“Patience, Ahsoka,” Anakin cautioned, placing a hand on her shoulder.

When Anakin turned back towards Obi-Wan, there was a wistful look in his eyes. The sight of it sent worry crawling back into Anakin’s veins—there _had_ to be something else, something that made Obi-Wan seem to be so resigned...

“You’re dying,” Anakin broke out without thinking, before Obi-Wan, who had opened his mouth to continue, could say anything else.

Obi-Wan’s mouth closed.

It was clear now—the resignation and mournful sadness that seemed to cling to Obi-Wan, the willingness to _finally_ speak and to tell the truth.

The way Bant had acted when she stepped out of the room, the desperation that clung to her Force presence like an ill-fitting cloak.

“Aren’t you?” Anakin croaked.

“ _Master_ ,” Ahsoka said, eyes wide, though a part of Anakin wondered if she was talking to him or to Obi-Wan. It wasn’t clear from the shock that had overcome her Force presence.

Obi-Wan’s features shuttered. “I—” he said, voice quiet. He let out a slow, uneven breath. “It’s a possibility.”

“Why did you need to speak to Bant, Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, leaning forward. “What’s happening?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes closed, and his shoulders trembled. Tears slipped out of his eyes, and his hands came up to cover them as ragged, uneven breaths escaped him.

The vitals monitor beeped urgently.

“Master?” Ahsoka asked, standing quickly and placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

A shuddering breath, followed by another one.

“Just—just give me a minute,” Obi-Wan rasped. “I’m...I just need…”

His voice trailed off as he dragged a deep breath between clenched teeth, face pulled into a deep frown.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said softly, bowing his head. “I’m just worried, Obi-Wan. This is…”

Obi-Wan let out another breath. “I know,” he murmured. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

They sat in an almost silence, Obi-Wan’s ragged breathing echoing eerily in the room.Anakin reached for Obi-Wan’s hand, gripping it tightly while being careful to not jostle the IV hooked into his wrist.

After a few moments, Obi-Wan exhaled, nodding slowly.

Anakin didn’t let go of his hand, and Ahsoka remained standing next to the bed, her hand still resting on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Everything is blurring together,” Obi-Wan said finally, voice rasping painfully in his throat.He turned wide eyes towards Anakin, and for the first time, Anakin saw raw desperation in his Master’s eyes.

“These visions,” Obi-Wan began, eyes flicking to Ahsoka, whose eyes widened in shock.“They are becoming too much for me to handle.”

“There has to be something that we can do,” Anakin insisted, voice raw with anguish.He was not going to lose Obi-Wan—he _refused_ to let that happen.“Let me just—let me _try_ , Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes shuttered as he let out a quiet breath, shoulders slumping.

“Anakin,” he murmured.“There is no time, and I’m sorry.”

Ahsoka sucked in a breath, her eyes bright with unshed tears.Anakin felt a sense of despondency trickling from her presence, echoing his own.

“Please, Master,” Anakin croaked.“I can’t lose you.I need you.”

_Attachment_ , his mind whispered, but he pushed the thought violently away.It wasn’t attachment to try to stop someone from dying—it was compassion.

Obi-Wan’s eyes closed as he slumped back against the headboard, exhaustion curling into his features.

“I won’t be lucid for long,” he said, voice cracking.“I can feel it calling to me.”

“What, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked, tears spilling from her eyes.She made no move to wipe them, keeping her hand firmly pressed onto her Grandmaster’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan didn’t answer, but his silence was answer enough.

“Just hold on,” Anakin pleaded, tightening his grip on Obi-Wan’s hand.“Just a little bit longer, Obi-Wan.”

Anakin watched as Obi-Wan turned towards him, mournful exhaustion shining in his half-lidded eyes.

“I’m tired,” he murmured.“But I will try, Anakin.”Then his eyes moved away, back down into his lap, as his fingers tangled into the folds of the thick blanket placed on top of his legs.

“That’s all I ask,” Anakin replied.“I’m going to go tear apart the Archives, and we’ll figure out a solution, Master.”

“Anakin, just—” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked as he looked back up at him.“If it doesn’t work, you must be prepared to let me go.You understand that, right?”

“Obi-Wan, I—”

“Please tell me that you understand that,” Obi-Wan whispered.“I can’t…I can’t just…”He exhaled shakily, eyes squeezing shut.

Ahsoka glanced at him, more tears slipping out of her eyes.She seemed to be stunned to silence, unsure of what to say.

Obi-Wan shuddered, teeth clattering.

“Please, Anakin.You must let me go.Otherwise, I—”Another shudder, and Obi-Wan’s eyes closed again as he sank back against the headboard, swallowing heavily.

Forcing a nod, Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand gently.

“I understand, Master,” Anakin said, the lie easily falling from his lips.“But right now, I want to help, okay?Don’t give up on me.”

Obi-Wan breathed out slowly, eyes opening.“I’m tired,” he rasped, grey eyes dull and exhausted.

Anakin felt his heart twist painfully in his chest.

“We’ll let you rest, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said, voice trembling slightly.“We’ll come back in the morning, okay?”

Obi-Wan smiled gently.“I’ll be here,” he replied, and he closed his eyes with a quiet exhale, slumping sideways.

With slow and careful movements, Anakin and Ahsoka moved Obi-Wan so that he was lying on his side, covering him with heavy blankets and adjusting his pillows to a more comfortable position.

A part of Anakin desperately wanted to stay—he suspected that Obi-Wan’s sleep would soon be broken, knowing from Bant that the visions came day _and_ night, regardless of whether Obi-Wan was awake or asleep.

But he also knew that they were running out of time, and Anakin _needed_ to find a way to save Obi-Wan, to stop the visions before…

“Master?” Ahsoka whispered.The tears running down her face shone in the dim light.

“Let’s go, Snips,” Anakin murmured.He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and together, they walked away.“I think you need to hear the truth.”

Ahsoka nodded, and together, they left the Halls, heading towards the Archives.

* * *

Vokara looked up at Bant, tilting her head.

“He asked for this?”

Bant nodded, tears falling from her eyes.Vokara stood, gently wrapping an arm around the Mon Calamari’s shoulders and walking her over to the couch in her office.They sat down together, and Bant let out a sob, burying her face in Vokara’s shoulders.

“We can’t…it would _destroy_ him, Master,” Bant gasped between sobs, shaking.

Vokara hummed, bringing up a hand to rub gently at Bant’s back.Bant hiccuped, her breaths becoming more and more uneven.

“Breathe, child,” Vokara murmured, keeping her voice quiet and calm.“Slowly.”

Eventually, Bant’s breathing evened out, and her sobs subsided.She pulled away, looking directly at Vokara.

“Master,” she said, voice hoarse.“We cannot sever Obi-Wan’s connection to the Force—it’s…”

“It’s a last resort,” Vokara said firmly.

She sighed, leaning back on the couch to stare up at the ceiling.This whole situation was extremely unusual.Visions were not that common in the Temple, but Vokara had seen her fair share of them during her time as a Healer.

However, she’d never seen anything like the kinds of visions that Obi-Wan had, as a child and even now.

It made _no_ sense, and at the speed this was progressing, Vokara did not see a way to keep Obi-Wan alive for much longer, and even if she could, he would be living a life of constant suffering, and…

She couldn’t bear to see him go through that.

“Have we reached that point?” Bant asked, voice shaking.“To even be considering it?”

Vokara let out a sigh, looking directly at Bant.

“We’ve tried the Force inhibitors, but they weren’t strong enough to block out the visions,” Vokara began.“We asked Obi-Wan to block it out himself, and that only made things worse.Anything else that we’ve thought of was either ineffective or caused him even more pain.”

“The Force is what’s keeping him alive, Master,” Bant argued.“He’s a Jedi!We can’t…take that away from him.”

Vokara pressed her lips together, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m surprised Obi-Wan asked for this,” she said finally, looking directly at Bant.“Has something changed?”

_Is there something more to this?_

The Mon Calamari let out a shaky sigh.“Master,” she said.“Obi-Wan believes he needs to survive to stop the visions from becoming a reality.”

“We have no way of knowing if the visions are even true,” Vokara replied.“And even if they are, by trying to prevent them, Obi-Wan may end up _causing_ them to happen.”

“I know.” Bant’s voice was quiet.“I’ve tried to tell him as much, but…”

“It’s better than the alternative, Bant,” Vokara murmured, pressing a comforting hand to Bant’s shoulder.

“That’s true,” Bant croaked.

The two of them lapsed into silence, Vokara staring at the ceiling of her office, letting her mind drift, while Bant closed her eyes, slipping into a light doze.

“I’m sorry you have to face this, Bant,” Vokara said.“He’s your friend—it must be difficult to see this happening to him.”

Bant opened her eyes.“I just want him to be alright, Master.To be a Jedi, to be _happy_ , and to not have these visions literally destroying him.How can the Force be so cruel?”

Vokara hummed.“There is the possibility that this is some sort of an attack by the Sith,” she mused.“But there is no hint of darkness in Obi-Wan’s presence, not even a hint of tampering.And if it’s truly the work of the Sith, why would they target Obi-Wan, especially when he was a child?”

A pause, then Bant let out a sigh.Vokara turned to face her, noting how the Mon Calamari stared up at the ceiling, her eyes far away.Her Force presence was quiet and pensive, her lips pressed together in deep thought.

“Master Che,” Bant said finally, and she sat up, turning to look at Vokara directly.

“There’s more,” Vokara realized, and Bant nodded.

“If it’s truly the Force sending him the visions, we have to assume that there’s an element of truth to them,” Bant said, voice shaking again.“Obi-Wan told me that the Jedi will fall, at the hands of a Sith Lord named Vader.”

As Bant spoke, coldness seeped into Vokara’s veins, and she shuddered.

“I don’t know much,” Bant continued, “but Obi-Wan believes Vader to be a Fallen Jedi, someone who will betray us and destroy us.”

Just thought of it—of one of their own falling to the Dark and turning around to bring about the destruction of the Jedi—was enough to send worry crawling up her spine.

Bant hesitated, her eyes falling into her lap.“I…it’s Anakin, Master,” she whispered.

Vokara blinked.

She thought back to the very first time she met Skywalker, back when he had just arrived to the Temple.Obi-Wan had taken him to the Halls to get his chip removed.Anakin had been a vibrant child, despite his difficult childhood, but even then, Vokara could easily sense the bright anger thrumming under his presence, just barely hidden from the surface.

Vokara had watched him grow in the years that followed.Anakin had mellowed out as the years progressed, but that anger never seemed to fade away.In fact, she’d seen him lash out more than a few times, but she’d always attributed that to the stresses of the war or him struggling to deal with his own anxieties.

“Anakin is Vader,” Bant said, “and Obi-Wan wants to stop him from Falling before it’s too late.”

Vokara closed her eyes, reaching out into the Force.

There was no denial in the Force, nothing to indicate that it was untrue—in fact, the unusual amount of clarity she felt in the Force spoke volumes.

She exhaled, opening her eyes to look at Bant.There was a dampness leaving her eyes, but she made no effort to wipe them away.

“Regardless,” Vokara said, feeling her throat protest her words as she said them, “I fear we have little choice but to do as Obi-Wan says.”

Bant shuddered, curling into herself.

“I will make the necessary preparations, Master,” the Mon Calamari whispered, but Vokara was already shaking her head.

“No,” she said.“Go to him.Tell him.I will inform the Council and the mind healers.”

Bant shook her head.“I can help—”

“Bant, if we’re going to do this, Obi-Wan will need to have a friend to help him get through this.It will not be easy for him.”

Just like that, all the fight seemed to drain out of Bant.Her shoulders slumped, and she nodded slowly.

They sat in silence for a few moments.Vokara knew they had to start the process—severing an individual’s connection to the Force was no simple matter, after all.

As though she heard her thoughts, Bant stood slowly.She walked to the door and paused, turning around to look at Vokara.

“There is—” Bant’s voice caught in her throat, and she swallowed.“There is no other option, is there?”

Another pause.

Vokara shook her head.“I’m sorry, Bant,” she whispered, feeling tears slip out of her eyes.

Before she could say anything more, Bant had left the room, and Vokara was alone.

* * *

Anakin frowned at the piles of datapads and holocrons scattered haphazardly on the table before him.In the corner of his eye, Ahsoka sighed, scrubbing at her eyes with a closed fist.

They had spent the night poring through everything they could find in the Archives on unusual Force visions and premonitions, but there was nothing about how to stop these kinds of visions, just how to interpret and understand them.

Anakin groaned, putting down the datapad he was holding.

“Did you find anything, Ahsoka?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

His padawan sighed, stretching her arms above her head before letting them rest on the table, looking up from her datapad.

“I was looking into any Jedi in the history of the Order who were well-known for premonitions,” she said, gesturing at the pile of datapads she had gone through during the night.“But the majority of them are Jedi who had a single, life-changing vision.”

Ahsoka blinked slowly, bringing a hand up to her eyes to scrub at them again.Anakin could feel the exhaustion thrumming along their bond—it had been a long night for Ahsoka as well, that much was obvious.

“The rest are Jedi who have had long-term or recurring visions, like Master Obi-Wan, but there’s no mention of whether the visions caused them physiological distress,” Ahsoka continued.“And there’s no mention of hallucinations or anything like that.”

Sighing, Anakin leaned forward, placing his head in his hands.

“I’m assuming you didn’t see anything in the medical records?”

He pulled his hands away from his face and shook his head.

Through the window, Anakin could see the sun peeking out of the horizon, just about ready to rise.The Archives had been completely silent over the past six hours, but now he could hear the quiet footsteps of Jedi arriving early to conduct some early-morning research.

The night was coming to an end, and Anakin and Ahsoka had found absolutely nothing.

“There has to be something else,” Anakin murmured.“What are we forgetting, Snips?”

Ahsoka’s eyes lowered, and her Force presence seemed to shift, displaying a sort of discomfort that made Anakin’s own presence recoil.He frowned.

“Master,” she said slowly.“The Healers have had years and years to research this—they must have tried everything they could.”

Anakin shook his head, looking away from his padawan to reach for another datapad.“They could have forgotten something—”

“Master.”

Ahsoka’s voice shook.

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut as they began to burn with unshed tears.

“ _No_ ,” he hissed.

“Maybe we should go back to the Halls,” Ahsoka whispered.“Spend whatever time we can now, until—”

“You’re giving up on Obi-Wan,” he realized, turning to face her.The tears slipped out of his eyes, sliding down his cheeks, but he made no effort to wipe them.“Aren’t you?”

Ahsoka recoiled slightly, leaning back in her chair.There were tears forming in her eyes, and the sight of it sent ice into his veins.

“Master, just—listen, okay?” she asked, voice rasping in her throat.“If something happens and you’re not there…”She trailed off, clearly unable to continue.

“We just need to find answers, Ahsoka,” Anakin replied heatedly, leaning forward in his chair.“I thought you agreed with me on this!”

He could feel the presences of other Jedi walking around, discreetly listening into their conversation, but he found himself not caring about that at the moment.

“I do,” Ahsoka insisted, voice shaking.“But there’s no time, and I would rather have the chance to say goodbye than to be completely absorbed in all of _this_.”She gestured at the datapads and holocrons that completely covered the tables around them.

“He’s your Master, Anakin,” she continued, and a tear slipped out of her right eye, shimmering down her cheek.“If it was you, I’d want to stay by your side until the end.Isn’t that what you want?”

She stood up from her chair and walked over to him, kneeling down next to his chair so that they were face to face.

Anakin shook his head furiously, using his flesh hand to scrub away his own tears so that he can clear his vision and focus on the datapad he was holding in his mech hand.

“You need to let him go, Anakin,” she whispered, and Anakin felt her hand pressing onto his shoulder, comfortingly.“It’s what he would want.”

Anakin opened his mouth and closed it as more tears slipped out of his eyes.His hands shook, and he felt a gentle tug of the datapad he was holding before it was pulled out of his grip.

“Ahsoka, I—”

He looked up at her, and the Force _screamed_.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened, just as burning pain slammed into Anakin’s senses.He heard someone scream, felt Ahsoka’s hands pressing onto his shoulders as the area seemed to flood with more Jedi.

He watched Madame Nu rush over to him, kneeling on his other side.

Ahsoka and Madame Nu were both speaking—he could see their mouths moving, but the screaming was much too loud to make sense of what they were saying.

The Force burned and screamed, shuddering at the seams, and Anakin felt every single moment of it.

It was too much— _way_ too much.

At the sight of the tears falling freely from Ahsoka’s eyes, Anakin realized that the person screaming was probably him.

He closed his mouth, and the screaming stopped, though the pain continued to rip and _burn_ into his mind.It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, as though the Force itself had been shredded into small pieces and then set on fire.

“Anakin?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin blinked, reaching out into the Force, struggling to understand what was happening.

The Force felt as though it was breaking, as though it was being completely torn apart and there was nothing that would ever stop it from happening.

The Light, the Dark, _everything_ was breaking.

And in the center of it—a familiar, flickering presence, at the verge of oblivion.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” he whispered, and without a second thought, he jumped out of his chair and sprinted out of the Archives, towards the Halls, barely noticing Ahsoka running behind him.

He was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about those _crunchy_ cliffhangers, amirite? xD
> 
> I'll do my best to get the next chapter up in the next 2-3 weeks! Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which drastic efforts are paved with good intentions, but they lead to a painful outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I should warn you: this chapter is _intense_. I was reeling from it while writing it (and I'm still feeling it tbh).
> 
> So just take a deep breath before going in.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ahsoka stumbled, racing after Anakin as he tore through the Temple’s corridors, his desperation screaming out into the Force.

The Force itself felt like it was burning, shredding into itself, the Light and the Dark twisting and curling into each other—into some grey, confusing mass.

In front of her, Anakin let out a hoarse cry, stumbling and putting his flesh hand on the side of his head.Before Ahsoka could react, Anakin righted himself again, plowing forward.

She could feel it, too.Her connection with Obi-Wan was not as strong as Anakin’s, but in the Force, their bond was folding into itself, decaying into nothingness.

_He’s dying_.

When Anakin asked Obi-Wan about it earlier, her Grandmaster had paused, and that pause was telling enough.There was a…rare display of emotion from Obi-Wan, in those moments of lucidity, that said even more than his words ever would.

Because of that, feeling this in the Force was not that much of a surprise—she only thought that there would be more time before Obi-Wan would join the Force.

She thought she would have a chance to say goodbye.She thought she would have more time to _process_ all of this.Ahsoka only found out the true extent of what was happening last night, and now…

Anakin wasn’t ready, and if she was being honest with herself, neither was she.

Obi-Wan had _always_ been there, since the rocky beginnings of her own apprenticeship.She’d been a bit unsure of how to talk to him back then, especially with all the rumors that circulated in the Temple about him.

She’d come to enjoy his company whenever he’d join her and Anakin on missions, as infrequent as it was.Obi-Wan had taught her _so_ much, from jar’kai to diplomacy and strategy.

More than that, he was kind, always willing to help Ahsoka, no matter what.

He was always there for her.

But now…

Ahead of her, Anakin raced into the Halls, and she followed.

The sharp vibration of some sort of ringing sound pulsed into her montrals, desperate and painful.

_Oh, no…_

Anakin continued forward, ignoring the Tholothian Padawan Healer who shouted at them from behind the front desk, rushing towards Obi-Wan’s room.

Her Master stopped in front of the room, and it was now obvious that the horrible ringing sound, the easily recognizable screech of a wailing heart monitor, was coming from Obi-Wan’s room.

Wondering why Anakin hadn’t already stormed into the room, Ahsoka caught up, stopping next to him.

Two Temple Guards stood tall in front of the entrance, blocking them.

“I need to see Obi-Wan,” Anakin said urgently, voice shaking.

The Guard on the left shifted, their presence in the Force bland and unreadable, just like the features painted on their mask.

“Master Che has given strict orders that no one is to enter,” the Guard said, and together, the two Guards ignited their sabers, completely blocking Anakin from entering.

“But something’s wrong!” Anakin exclaimed, attempting to take a step forward.“Can’t you sense it?They’re _doing_ something to him.”

Through the blank features of their masks, the Guards glanced at each other.

“Master Che’s orders are clear,” the other Guard said, voice pitched low and sympathetic.“My apologies.”

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by a frantic shout coming from inside the room.

_“Help!”_

The voice was familiar; Ahsoka recognized it as Master Eerin’s almost instantly, though she’d never heard her sound quite like that—all distressed and scared and _worried_.

Ahsoka’s heart dropped to her stomach.

Something was really, _really_ wrong.

* * *

Obi-Wan’s face twisted into a grimace, eyelids fluttering.

Bant reached forward, placing a gentle hand on his sweat-soaked forehead.“I know,” she murmured, glancing around at the crowd of Healers around them, faces set in deep concentration.“I know it hurts.”

Two ragged breaths, then Obi-Wan’s eyes opened, his head turning to look at Bant directly.

“Bant,” he murmured, voice cracking.“Tell Anakin…”

“I will, Obi-Wan,” she replied, reaching out desperately to him in the Force.Obi-Wan let out a shuddering breath, shoulders trembling with the effort.“I will.”

The Force whispered, soft and unclear.

Around them, Master Che and a group of mind healers were preparing the room.Bant could feel a sense of urgency emanating from them, coupled with cool determination.

The room fell into silence over the next few moments.Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed, breaths soft and uneven.Bant did her best to keep him calm, though a part of her wondered if Obi-Wan had managed to keep his grip on lucidity since the mind healers came in.

He had been lucid enough when she told him that Master Che agreed to his suggestion—that he would be permanently cut off from the Force, to save his own life.

The movement around her stopped, and she watched as a mind healer nodded at Master Che, who knelt down at Obi-Wan’s other side, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Obi-Wan,” she said, and Obi-Wan struggled to open his eyes, turning his head slightly in Master Che’s direction.“We are ready.I must ask this one more time—are you sure this about this?”

A moment passed, followed by another.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan murmured, swallowing.“There…there is no other way.”His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned, trembling slightly.“He will destroy everything.”

A flicker of despair crossed Master Che’s features before they settled back into cool calmness.She nodded, looking up at the mind healers circled around the bed.

“Bant,” Master Che said, standing up slowly.“You must keep him grounded, no matter what.This process is…difficult.”

Bant knew exactly what Master Che meant—this was going to hurt, and it was going to hurt a _lot_.

“Understood,” she replied, bowing her head.

Master Che looked at Obi-Wan, who opened his eyes, staring up at her evenly.He nodded.

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” the Master Healer murmured.

Bant watched, wide-eyed, as Master Che and all of the mind healers gathered around the bed sank to their knees, each one placing a hand on Obi-Wan.She felt them all sink into a light meditation, feeling Master Che bring Obi-Wan along as his eyes slipped closed and the tension fled from his body.

For a few moments, it seemed like they were all drifting in the Force.Bant couldn’t tell exactly what was happening in the Force, but it all seemed…normal.

Obi-Wan almost looked like he was sleeping.Were it not for the tubes running into his arm, the monitor displaying his vitals, and the healers settled around his bed, Bant would have thought that he had finally managed to fall asleep.

Then, after a few moments, the Force _shifted_.

Obi-Wan frowned.

Bant moved to the edge of her seat, studying her friend carefully.

A violent shudder passed through Obi-Wan’s frame, and he let out a ragged gasp as the Force seemed to whirl around him, like a tornado.

“Obi-Wan?” she asked, keeping her voice level.

In response, Obi-Wan trembled, his breaths hoarse and uneven.

“No, don’t,” he whispered.“Anakin, please…no…”

For an agonized moment, all seemed to be all too still.Then, the Force jerked, and Obi-Wan’s body spasmed on the bed.

Bant watched as he fell back onto the bed, body shaking more intensely.

There was something _strange_ stirring into the Force, something pushing and pulling at Obi-Wan’s presence, in a way she’d never witnessed before.It felt…uncomfortable, almost agonizing to witness.

Bant shifted, placing a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm as he began to seize on the bed, desperately projecting stability into the Force.She wanted his last memories of the Force to be ones of peace, not of… _this_.

The sound of the vitals monitor screeching dragged her out of her thoughts, and she jumped in her chair.

Obi-Wan was completely, unnaturally still, and the heart monitor was wailing.His Force presence was flickering out of existence, shattering, tearing itself into destruction.

Bant leaned over her friend, moving between the two of the healers surrounding the bed to place a hand under his nose.

Nothing—Obi-Wan wasn’t breathing.

The Force whirled and shuddered, on the verge of complete collapse.

_This feels…wrong.I don’t think this is working._

“Master Che,” she said, shaking the Master Healer’s shoulder.Panic lodged itself in her throat, and she shook Che’s shoulder even more.“It’s not working!We’re losing him.”

Master Che remained still, clearly in the depths of deep meditation.Bant could feel her Force presence slowly pulling at Obi-Wan’s, wrenching it _away_.

“Master!” she shouted, kneeling down in front of Master Che.The Force _screamed_ , and the room seemed to erupt into a silent explosion, as though the storm it had become was now whirling all around her, pushing Obi-Wan’s presence into a point of oblivion.

The wailing of the heart monitor got louder, and her instincts took over.She jumped back up to her feet, shoving some of the healers’ arms to the side to more easily access Obi-Wan, and she began chest compressions.

Through the sounds of the heart monitor and the dull thuds of Obi-Wan’s body falling back onto the bed—lifelessly—she heard a commotion from outside the room’s door.

_Anakin._

“ _Help_!” she shouted towards the door.“Let them in!”

A split-second later, the door flew open, and Anakin stumbled in, followed closely by Ahsoka.The two masked Temple Guards that Master Che stationed outside of the room stood behind them, turned towards Bant.

She couldn’t see their expressions, but she could feel the shock rolling easily through the disturbance in the Force.

“Get more healers!” she shouted, and the Guards rushed out of view, leaving her alone with Obi-Wan’s Padawan and Grandpadawan.

Anakin looked around, taking in the crowd of healers settled around the bed, deep in meditation, while Bant continued pressing down on Obi-Wan’s chest.

“What’s happening here?” Anakin asked, suddenly frozen to the spot.His voice was barely discernible over the harsh ringing of the heart monitor.

“There’s no time!” Bant exclaimed between gasps.“Anakin—you didn’t sever your bond with Obi-Wan, right?You need to go in and tell the mind healers to stop, _now_!”

Anakin opened his mouth to reply, stopped himself, and rushed over to the head of the bed, placing both hands on the sides of Obi-Wan’s head.

He closed his eyes and sank deep into the Force.

Ahsoka remained standing where she was, eyes wide.

“Ahsoka—”

“I have a bond with Master Obi-Wan,” the Padawan whispered.“It’s…not that strong, but—”

Bant grunted, pressing down harder.Feeling something crack under her hands, she winced.“Anakin will need all the help he can, Ahsoka,” she replied, voice shaking with the effort.

Ahsoka nodded, racing to Anakin’s side and dropping into meditation.

Taking a deep breath, Bant continued.Her arms trembled with each savage push.

“Come on, Obi,” she whispered, breathing deeply.“You can’t do this, not to Anakin or Ahsoka, or even to _me_.Everyone else is gone—Garen, Reeft, Siri…it’s just you and me now.”

As expected, Obi-Wan didn’t reply, and the Force shuddered in response.She could barely feel him at all now, and she knew that his presence was on the verge of collapse, of falling into the Force.

“ _Please_.”

The door slid open, and more healers rushed in to help her.Bant continued forcing Obi-Wan’s heart to keep beating, while a healer slipped an oxygen mask over his face.She barely noticed the medical droid adding some drugs to the IV bag.

The Force held its breath in anticipation, before it settled, tense and desperate.

Once it seemed like Obi-Wan was breathing with the help of the mask, the heart monitor stopped wailing.Strong hands grabbed at Bant’s shoulders, gently pulling her back.

She felt as though she wasn’t really there—rather, she was watching all of this unfold from somewhere far away, unable to do anything more.

With a ragged gasp, Anakin’s eyes flew open.He stumbled back, nearly crashing into Ahsoka, whose eyes were opening slowly.Both Master and Padawan fell to the ground, stunned to silence.

Bant watched, with tears blurring her vision, as Master Che and the mind healers were pulled out of meditation. Master Che let out a quiet sigh that trembled ever so slightly before her face fell into her hands, her shoulders curling forward as she remained kneeled next to the bed.

“What have we done?” she moaned, voice muffled.Slowly, she pulled herself to her feet, dismissing all of the other healers from the room.

Obi-Wan’s eyes twitched.

“Obi?” Bant asked, taking a slow step forward.

His eyes opened into slits, and a quiet, pained gasp echoed through the room.

The Force shuddered, reeling.

Anakin struggled to his feet, stumbling over to Obi-Wan.“Obi-Wan, what happened?Why would—”

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered, and the vitals monitor beeped urgently, almost in warning.

“Sidious.”Obi-Wan’s voice was muffled by the mask, barely discernible.His chest rose and fell rapidly with the effort of speaking.Bant placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to react in any visible way—a part of her wondered if he was even aware of anything at all.

His Force presence was a whisper of flickering light in the Force—still connected to the Force and to life, but the connection itself was threadlike, a tremulous connection on the verge of shattering.

“What?” Anakin croaked.His face was a mask of confusion at the unfamiliar word.Ahsoka stood next to him, in a show of silent support.

“Sidious,” Obi-Wan repeated, quieter than before.“Palpa—Palpatine.”

The Chancellor’s name was a whisper of breath, drifting off into the wind.

Another exhale, and Obi-Wan’s eyes closed with a sense of finality as he dropped into deep unconsciousness, head turning away from Bant.

Silence echoed in the room before Master Che reached forward towards him with a deep frown.Bant could see the raw desperation in her eyes, despair surrounding her Force presence like a heavy cloud.

The vitals monitor beeped again, and Master Che turned to look at it, shoulders trembling slightly.

Anakin and Ahsoka remained standing, frozen to the spot, unsure.Bant could sense their confusion, their _worry_ , and for once, she did not know what to say to ease their anxieties.

She didn’t even know what to tell herself.

They had barely managed to bring Obi-Wan back this time, but Bant suspected they would not be so lucky the next time.

And that realization was what hurt the most.

* * *

By the time they returned to the apartment, Anakin was shaking more visibly.

Ahsoka guided him to the couch, sitting herself down next to him.

“I’ll make some caf,” she said quietly, moving to get up.The sun had risen a while ago, and she and Anakin had stayed up all night in the Archives.A part of her was tired, nearly ready to drop into sleep, but a part of her was stunned by what she’d witnessed in the Halls.

There was no way she could sleep now, not with everything that just happened.

Before she could walk away, a metallic hand wrapped itself around her left wrist.She stopped, looking down at Anakin.

He shook his head, and she sat down again.

A quiet sob escaped him.

Ahsoka leaned into his shoulder, wrapping an arm around him and letting his head fall back onto her shoulder.

His cries were quiet, near-silent, so achingly different from when he’d broken down outside of Obi-Wan’s room in the Halls yesterday.

These were tears of desperate sorrow, compared to the loud, frustrated cries she remembered from before.

She wished she knew what to say to make things right—she couldn’t exactly say that things were gonna be alright, because it was so obvious that they wouldn’t.

In this moment, it felt as though things would never be right, ever again.

The ringing of the apartment’s buzzer interrupted her thoughts.Anakin pulled away, dragging the sleeve of his robe across his eyes.

Ahsoka stood and walked to the door.

Master Eerin stood in the landing, shoulders slumped with barely concealed exhaustion.

“What do you want?” Anakin hissed from behind her, fresh grief quickly solidifying into a cold, harsh anger.

“I have…news,” Master Eerin replied, voice soft.Up close, Ahsoka could see the redness in her eyes, the desperation.The Mon Calamari’s Force presence was heavy, bogged down and tired.

Grief flickered in the Force.

_This is hurting her as much as it’s hurting us.Master Obi-Wan always called her his best friend, and now…_

“Come in,” Ahsoka said quietly, moving to the side to allow Master Eerin to walk in.

Anakin sighed, slumping back into the couch.

“Do you want some caf, Master Eerin?” Ahsoka offered, struggling to break the obvious tension between Anakin and Bant.

It was clear that Anakin was reeling from what the healers decided to do to Obi-Wan, without even telling him or Ahsoka.Ahsoka found herself in a state of shock, but the more she thought about it, the more she saw how they came to the decision.

They were trying to find a way to save Obi-Wan’s life; they couldn’t have possibly foreseen it backfiring as much as it did.

“No, it’s alright,” Bant replied.She sat down on the armchair, the one that Obi-Wan used to sit on, before…

Ahsoka nodded, seating herself next to Anakin on the couch.

“Well, what is it?” Anakin snapped.“What do you want to tell us?”

His Force presence was carefully controlled fire, burning at the seams, terrible.Ahsoka ached to do _something_ to help him, but she had no idea what would help now.

Everything was just…horrible, and there was hardly anything she could do to make things right, especially now.

Bant sighed.

“As you know, in an effort to stop the visions and save Obi-Wan’s life, we attempted to sever his connection to the Force this morning,” she began, voice quiet.

Ahsoka felt Anakin tense, remembering how he _reeled_ in response to the discovery, deep within the Force.The memory of how the mind healers were pulling and _pulling_ at Obi-Wan’s Force presence, in the hopes of cutting him off from the Force completely, was something she’d likely never forget.

“He almost _died_ ,” Anakin accused, jabbing a finger towards Bant.“What were you thinking?Why would you do that?”

Bant closed her eyes, slumping back into the armchair.“It was Obi-Wan’s wish, and there was no other option, Anakin,” she replied.“I wish it hadn’t failed the way it had; then—”

She cut herself off, looking up at them with bright, tear-filled eyes.

Ahsoka’s throat went dry, and Anakin paled.

“Then what?” she croaked, after silence passed between them for a few moments.A part of her didn’t want to know; she wished she could just turn back time to when things were easier and Obi-Wan was alright.

She just wanted things to be how they were _before_.

Bant looked at both of them carefully before she sighed, lowering her gaze.

“We are unable to get Obi-Wan to wake up, and tests are indicating a very low level of brain activity.He’s stopped breathing on his own, too—Master Che just hooked him up to a ventilator.”The Mon Calamari’s voice was hoarse with grief.

Ahsoka blinked slowly, feeling her own tears press into her eyes.She shuddered softly, leaning back into the couch and covering her eyes with both hands.Next to her, Anakin leaned on her again, in a sort of silent support.

She heard Master Eerin take another deep breath before speaking again.

“We don’t know if he’ll wake up.”

The thought of Obi-Wan—her Grandmaster—in that state was enough for her to realize just how _real_ all of this was. 

She would most likely never speak to him again.She would never have another jar’kai lesson from Obi-Wan, never see that wry smile that would show up whenever Anakin was being particularly funny.

She would never see her Master and her Grandmaster be Anakin and Obi-Wan, two Jedi—two _brothers_ —who sometimes knew each other better than they knew themselves.

Ahsoka opened her eyes, moving her hands away from her face.

She felt Anakin shift, and his flesh hand latched onto hers, both supportive and in need of support at the same time.

“Does this…” Anakin swallowed heavily, eyes bright.“He’s in a coma?”

A pause, then Bant nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice shaking.“I am so sorry.”

* * *

Vokara stood alone in the Council Chambers, in front of the Grand Master and the Master of the Jedi Order, head bowed.

“I do not know what it means, Masters, but I think there must be a reason he said it,” she said softly.

Obi-Wan could have said _anything_ in those final moments.The fact that he chose this had to mean _something_.She hoped to bring whatever it was he was trying to say into the light, by telling it to the right people.

It was the least she could do.

Vokara couldn’t bear to look them in the eye—not after what she’d done.

At a fundamental level, a Healer is meant to do good; in this case, her actions did the exact opposite, and her patient almost died.

Because of her, Obi-Wan Kenobi was in a coma, somewhere beyond reach.Most likely, he would never wake up again.

She’d ripped his final goodbyes away from _everyone_ , without a second thought or consideration.

This…was all her fault.

Master Yoda exhaled, and Vokara looked up.

“Tell us, you must, what Obi-Wan said,” he rasped.His eyes were mournful, bright with a grief she’d never seen from him before.

“He only said two words,” she replied, voice shaking.“‘ _Sidious_ ’ and ‘ _Palpatine_.’But I do not know what that means.”

Master Windu inhaled sharply, turning to look at Master Yoda.The Grand Master nodded back at him slowly, bowing his head.

“If this means what I think it does, we must tread carefully,” Master Windu said, frowning.“We have possible confirmation that the Chancellor is the Sith Master, Darth Sidious, and that he longs for Skywalker to become his apprentice.”

Vokara blinked, and she felt as though the floor slipped out from under her, leaving her in free-fall.

If the Chancellor was truly the Sith Lord they were looking for, that must mean he’d been deliberately sabotaging the Republic and the Jedi for all this time, probably since before he was elected as Chancellor.

The Senate had granted him all these emergency powers as the war progressed, and now it was very likely that he intended to use that power against the Jedi.

“That’s…not good,” she said finally, voice rasping.

Master Yoda hummed.“Agree, I do.Much power, Chancellor Palpatine has.”

“I will call for an emergency Council Meeting,” Master Windu decided.He nodded at Vokara.“Do what you can for Obi-Wan, Master Che.I will stop by to visit him as soon as I can.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

It was clear that now that Obi-Wan would receive a few visitors over the next few days, probably to say goodbye.

Obi-Wan had impacted so many lives over the years, including her own.He was a bright presence, rooted in the Light, no matter what.

All the worlds he’d saved over the years, all the hope he had brought to people struggling in the wake of the darkness plaguing the galaxy…

He was a vital part of the war, desperately bringing peace and light back to the galaxy in whatever way he could.

And now, just like that…it was over.

Vokara opened her eyes.“I understand,” she said, voice rasping.“May the Force be with you, Masters.”

With a bow, she left.She walked out of the Council Chambers, through the atrium, and into the lift.

As the lift traveled down towards the Halls, she sighed, looking up.Through the glass of the lift, she could see speeders, ships, the people living their lives as though everything was just fine.

A part of her felt as though she was frozen in this agonized moment of loss, forced to face her failure through its aftermath, through everything her failure has brought.

This failure was one that she would remember forever—for better or worse.

Tears sprung into her eyes, but she scrubbed them away with a rough hand, refusing to let a single one fall.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice trembling.“I am so sorry, Obi-Wan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are just....so happy, amirite??? :)
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment on your way out!
> 
> EDIT: Oh, and I forgot to mention - I'm hoping to have the next chapter out in 2-3 weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The struggles of the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome back! I hope you're all doing alright :)
> 
> This chapter is...heavy. I don't think it's as intense as the last one, but it does deal with the aftermath of it.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Nothing felt entirely real anymore.

Not long after Bant told him and Ahsoka what happened, Anakin went into his room and curled up in his bed, staring at the wall.He couldn’t sleep, despite the fact he remembered spending the night searching the Archives with Ahsoka, so desperate to make things right.

If only he knew then what those long, frantic hours would cost him.

Whenever he closed his eyes for longer than a moment, he would see what he saw the moment he raced into Obi-Wan’s room in the Halls that morning—Obi-Wan, completely lifeless and still, surrounded by a circle of mind healers, and Bant, tears running down her face as she fought to keep Obi-Wan’s heart beating.

He could still hear the ringing of the heart monitor, painful and final.

Anakin remembered how it felt when he dove into the Force to stop the mind healers.In the heat of the moment, the Force burned.He’d never felt anything like that before— _never._

Even worse was the moment when he realized what the mind healers were doing to Obi-Wan.He remembered feeling Ahsoka’s shock along with his own, at the realization that they were _hurting_ him.

And now, Obi-Wan wouldn’t wake up.

Just the thought of it made Anakin nauseous.Obi-Wan was… _everything_ to him.He was the one who took him in and raised him, when no one else would.Everything Anakin ever learned as a Jedi was because of Obi-Wan.

Anakin thought he’d have more time to find an answer; he thought he’d have a chance to save Obi-Wan.

But it was cruelly ripped away from him, along with the chance for a goodbye.

The worst part was that Bant claimed that the idea was Obi-Wan’s—he had believed that cutting himself off from the Force permanently would stop the visions.

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, desperately pushing the thoughts away from the forefront of his mind.With a quiet gasp, he quickly reopened them, as the image of Obi-Wan’s lifeless body flashed across his mind.

He found himself thinking back to the last conversation he had with Obi-Wan, just last night, before everything went horribly wrong.

_“Anakin, there is no time, and I’m sorry.”_ Obi-Wan’s words echoed in his mind, a constantly painful reminder. _“If it doesn’t work, you must be prepared to let me go.You understand that, right?”_

“You were trying to tell me the truth,” Anakin whispered, voice cracking in his throat.“And I didn’t listen.”

At the time, Anakin had thought Obi-Wan was referring to Anakin’s desperate need to find answers in the Archives.He didn’t take the time to actually think about what Obi-Wan was actually saying, but he now knew the truth.

And now, it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin gasped, trembling.“I should’ve listened.”

He barely heard the door open behind him; he didn’t bother to move to see who had entered his bedroom.

“Master?I brought some food.”

Ahsoka’s voice was scratchy, the way it would get whenever she cried.A part of him knew Ahsoka was reeling just as much as he was, that Obi-Wan meant _so much_ to her.

But she would never be able to fully understand what he was feeling—and he knew it.

“Leave me alone.”

His voice was rough, unrecognizable.

A quiet sigh.“Master, you need to eat.You haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

He didn’t bother replying.Instead, he moved closer to the wall and piled as many shields as he could around himself in the Force.Anakin didn’t want to feel Ahsoka’s concern through their bond; more than that, he wanted to be completely alone—physically, and in the Force.

A few moments passed, then Ahsoka sighed again.

“Fine,” she whispered, voice shaking.“I’ll leave this here.Just—eat, okay?Please?”

He heard her place something on his desk before the door closed, and once again, Anakin was alone.

* * *

Mace scrubbed a hand across his eyes, feeling even more confused than before.

“Where do we even begin with this?” he asked.

The Council was not in full attendance—he and Master Yoda decided it was best to not risk communicating with any Councilors who were not on Coruscant, in case the connection would be compromised by someone…unfavorable.

Across from him, Adi frowned, eyebrows creasing.“How do we know that these visions are true?” she asked finally.

“We don’t,” Mace replied, sighing softly.“But we cannot ignore this.”

Master Plo cleared his throat.“Regardless of the validity of Obi-Wan’s claims, it is true that Skywalker and Padawan Tano need support.I think it would be prudent for one of us to watch over them, especially considering what Obi-Wan said about Skywalker’s fate.”

The room lapsed into silence, as though no one knew how to respond.

Mace cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Are you volunteering, Master Plo?” he asked.

The Kel Dor Jedi Master sank back into his chair.“I suppose I am,” he said.“In the past, Obi-Wan had watched over them.Since I already have some sort of a connection with Padawan Tano, I think it would make the most sense for me to take over that responsibility.”

Mace nodded—it was not a secret that Master Plo cared deeply about Padawan Tano.

“If you could also monitor Skywalker’s communications…I know it would be difficult, but we must keep him away from the Chancellor, at least for now.”

Master Plo nodded deeply.“I understand.”

Another silence, then Master Tiin spoke up, voice hesitant.“What do we do about the Chancellor?” he asked, hands folded in his lap.

“Any action we choose to take must be done carefully,” Master Fisto replied.“If he gets even an inkling that we suspect him of anything…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Obi-Wan’s absence was somehow more noticeable, likely because of what had happened.Mace couldn’t help but think that Obi-Wan would have known what to do in this situation; he would have offered up some idea of how to proceed.

He shook his head—dwelling on what could have been would get him nowhere.But in hindsight, there was so much he _should_ have done, having seen the shatterpoints around Obi-Wan grow substantially with the progression of time.

Mace had long suspected that something of importance would happen, but he still did absolutely nothing.

He should have done something, but now he could only look forward, to make sure Obi-Wan’s sacrifice does not go in vain.

He had to make sure the Jedi survive and that the war ends, for Obi-Wan’s sake.

“We must investigate the Chancellor—anything we can find on his origins that can be used as evidence to support Obi-Wan’s claim,” Mace said, agreeing with Fisto.

“Understand his plan, we must.”

Master Yoda’s voice was so quiet that Mace had to strain slightly to hear him speak.

“How?” Master Gallia asked, turning slightly in her seat to face the ancient Master.“Master Yoda, this may mean that the Sith have been planning this for decades—we don’t even know who we can trust outside of the Order.”

“Is there even anyone we _can_ trust?” Master Tiin wondered.“Palpatine has many allies and a significant amount of power and control over the Senate.”

Silence echoed through the Chambers.

Then, Master Yoda cleared his throat and sighed.

“One option, there is,” he said, looking up to meet Mace’s eyes.“Find Count Dooku, I will.Speak to him, I must.”

“Master Yoda, are you sure?” Master Plo asked, brows furrowed.

Not once since the first Battle of Geonosis did Master Yoda speak to Count Dooku in-person.Mace knew that a part of the ancient Master grieved for his former Padawan’s descent to the Dark Side, though Master Yoda never admitted it.

The fact that he wanted to seek Dooku out _now_ was no small matter.To Dooku, Obi-Wan was a living reminder of Qui-Gon Jinn—that much was clear, from what he’d said to him on Geonosis.

Mace couldn’t help but wonder if the knowledge of what happened to Obi-Wan would prompt Dooku to give them the information they needed.

He was willing to bet that Master Yoda had similar thoughts.But Plo was right—this was a risk, and there was a significant probability of it backfiring horribly.

“Sure?” Master Yoda echoed, bowing his head.“No.But no other choice, there is.”

The room lapsed, once again, into silence.Mace nodded slowly, allowing his thoughts to drift back to what they’d learned from Obi-Wan’s vision—there was something else, something _vital_.

“There is one more thing I don’t understand,” he said aloud, and the other Councilors turned towards him, curiosity echoing into the Force.

“Obi-Wan had said that Skywalker would betray the Jedi and fall to the Dark.He would become Vader, and Vader would destroy the Jedi— _all_ of us.”Mace kept his voice quiet and even, despite the fact that the thought of this happening horrified him to the core.

“How would that even be possible?” Master Tiin asked, eyes wide.“There would only be two of them—that is the Rule, is it not?”

Mace sighed, scrubbing at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.“We must find this out—I suspect this has to do with Sidious’ plans.There must be something he has in place that would allow this to happen.”

Master Gallia nodded slowly, leaning back in her seat.“We will investigate this discreetly, but together, Masters,” she replied, voice echoing in the chamber.“We cannot allow what Obi-Wan sacrificed to be all for nothing.”

Agreement resonated into the Force, sure and calm.With that silence, fueled with new determination, the Councilors dispersed.As the chamber emptied, Mace turned to Master Yoda, who remained seated.

“Master?” Mace asked softly, kneeling in front of him.

The ancient Master’s eyes flicked up to meet his, bright with sorrow.

“Wronged him, we have.”

Mace didn’t have to ask who Master Yoda was talking about—it was obvious.

“Yes, Master,” he replied, voice quiet.“But now we have the opportunity to make things right.”

A nod, then: “Agree with you, I do.”

“I just hope that it’s not too late,” Mace said.

“Trust in the Force, we must.”

_Trust the Force._

Mace couldn’t help but wonder if it was just as simple as that—would it save the Order from potential destruction, prevent Skywalker from turning away from the Light?

Would it be enough to save Obi-Wan Kenobi’s life?

He didn’t know.

All Mace could do, in this very moment, was search for answers and stand together with his fellow Jedi when the time would come.

He exhaled slowly, locking eyes with the ancient Jedi Master sitting across from him, in a moment of shared understanding.

Whatever came next, they would face it together.

“Yes, Master,” Mace replied, voice echoing softly.

* * *

Everything was quiet— _too_ quiet.

Ahsoka sighed, stretching her hands above her head.On the table in front of her was a small holoprojector showing a diagram she was supposed to be studying for one of her classes.

She’d been staring at it ever since Anakin kicked her out of his room, only it seemed as though that she was only _just_ staring at it.Ahsoka couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than that, which was slightly inconvenient because she had to write up her assignment by tomorrow morning.

But she just— _couldn’t_.

How could she, when her Master had locked himself in his room for pretty much the whole day, since Bant gave them the news in the morning?The sun was setting now, which meant Anakin kept himself locked in his room for almost eight hours, and he hadn’t come out to eat or to use the fresher or anything.

Ahsoka had knocked on his door a few times, but Anakin didn’t reply.The crushing, horrible silence she felt on the other side of the bond she shared with him was even more unnerving.

And, of course, being in this position at all—wanting to help Anakin in some way but not knowing _how_ —made her want to seek out someone who _knew_ Anakin.

Someone like Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka pulled her hands into her lap, curling her fingers together.She leaned back and squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath between clenched teeth.

Obi-Wan wouldn’t be able to help now, not like how he did before.

A part of her wanted to go back to the Halls and see him, but the thought of going by herself made knots form in her stomach.Anakin wouldn’t go—she already tried asking him, in an effort to get him to leave his room, but he remained stubbornly silent.

“I…” she whispered, voice trembling.In front of her, the image of the hologram wavered.With a trembling hand, she reached over to the base of the projector and slammed her hand onto the button.

The image flickered away.

Her chest felt oddly tight, as though there was something squeezed tightly around her body.Ahsoka trembled, curling into herself.

“I can’t,” she gasped.

Tears slipped out of her eyes and down her cheeks.

“ _Please_.”

Ahsoka didn’t know what she was pleading for, or even to whom.What she did know was that she just wanted things to go back to normal.

But now it was clear that normalcy was exactly what she lost.

Things would never be the way they were…before.

And that was what upset her the most.

Ahsoka shuddered, struggling to take in a deep breath.More tears spilled out of her eyes.

“I can’t,” she repeated, an empty mantra.“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I _can’t_.”

_I can’t lose him._

But it seemed as though she had little choice.

The buzzer rang abruptly, pulling Ahsoka right out of her thoughts.She quickly scrubbed a hand across her face, pulling herself up to her feet and stumbling over to the apartment’s front door.

“Master Plo?”

The Kel Dor Jedi Master stood in the landing, hands clasped in front of him.

“Ahsoka,” he rumbled, voice quiet.“May I come in?”

Ahsoka nodded and shuffled out of the way.Master Plo nodded gratefully and stepped into the apartment, taking in the disorganized chaos that had taken over Obi-Wan’s normally immaculate apartment.

There were droid parts littered everywhere, courtesy of Anakin leaving his projects half-completed and Obi-Wan not being around to stop him, like he usually did.Anakin’s commlink sat forgotten on a side table, left untouched by its owner for well over a day now.Anakin and Ahsoka’s boots lay crumpled by the doorway, instead of resting on the shoe rack inside of the nearby closet.

Master Plo glided over to the couch and sat down.Ahsoka followed, sitting herself next to him.

She swallowed, struggling to figure out what to say.

It was obvious that Plo knew what happened—Master Che probably informed the Council about it right afterwards.

But where could she possibly begin?What was she supposed to _say_?

Ahsoka opened her mouth, and then she closed it.

“Ahsoka,” Master Plo murmured, and he bowed his head.His voice was quieter than usual, a quiet rumble instead of his usual deep reassurance.“How are you?”

She opened to her mouth again to reply, but nothing came out.

What was she supposed to say?She couldn’t even understand any of it—none of this made any sense.

Obi-Wan had been getting better; that was what Anakin told her a few days ago.He said that Obi-Wan was going to need time to recover, but eventually, he would be alright.

But then _something_ happened, and everything changed.

And in the wake of Anakin’s discovery about the visions and Obi-Wan’s childhood, Ahsoka also learned the truth.

“I don’t know,” she croaked, feeling her voice tremble.“I’m…”

She sank back into the couch’s cushions, wishing that they would just swallow her whole.

“I don’t know,” she repeated lamely, looking down into her lap.

Master Plo didn’t reply, or at least not right away.Instead, he leaned back, looking around the room as though he was deep in thought.Then, he paused, turning to look directly at her.

“Little Soka,” he murmured, with a soft and gentle voice.“Would you like a hug?”

With that simple question, something inside her broke.She let out a quiet sob and threw herself onto the Kel Dor Master, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her head into his chest.

Ahsoka shook with the force of her sobs, as all the emotion pent up inside of her seemed to come pouring out all at once.She felt the soft vibrations of a deep voice murmuring near her montrals, and around her, the Force became soft and gentle.

She shuddered as tears spilled from her eyes, as Plo’s voice whispered soft reassurances, grounding her in a way she so desperately needed.

Eventually, her tears stopped, and she pulled herself away from him, scrubbing her hand across her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Master Plo; I don’t know what came over me.”She fumbled for an apology, still trembling from the sheer amount of emotion she felt just a few moments ago.“I—”

“There is no need to apologize, little Soka,” Plo replied, voice gentle.“What you are feeling is completely understandable, especially considering your connection to Obi-Wan.”

She nodded dumbly, sinking back into the couch.

“I’m just—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed.“I just can’t believe all of this just happened,” she said.“It doesn’t feel _real_.”

Plo nodded.“Everything did happen very fast,” he replied.“How is Skywalker handling it?”

Ahsoka sighed, closing her eyes tightly to prevent any more tears from falling.

“Not well,” she managed, opening her eyes again to look directly at the Kel Dor Master.“I’m…I’m worried about him, Master.He’s locked himself in his room ever since Master Eerin gave us the news this morning, and he hasn’t come out, not even to eat.”

Plo’s brows furrowed as he turned towards Anakin’s locked door.“Let me speak with him, little one,” he said, pulling himself up to his feet.“Take a moment to relax and center yourself.”

Ahsoka nodded, too exhausted to argue.Her all-nighter with Anakin in the Archives was now taking its toll—fatigue had clawed its way into existence, making her eyes heavy and warm.The idea of sleep was inviting, but it was definitely unrealistic.

She sank back against the couch, watching as Plo knocked on the door, but her mind was drifting far away.

A Jedi should not dwell on the past, on what could have been, but Ahsoka couldn’t help herself.

“I can’t,” she whispered, voice trembling.Slowly, she bowed her head, turning away as Plo entered Anakin’s room.“I _can’t_.”

* * *

Anakin frowned as he heard the locking mechanism disengage before his room’s door slid open.He stayed curled up in his bed, facing the wall.

“Ahsoka,” he groaned, not bothering to turn around, “I told you to leave me _alone_.”

He heard the door close before footsteps approached him—though they didn’t sound like Ahsoka’s footsteps, now that he thought about it.

Anakin flipped over onto his other side, looking up at the person who had just entered his room.

“What do you want?” he snapped.

He didn’t have anything against Master Plo, not _really_.The Kel Dor Master was kind, and he was definitely one of the more understanding members of the Council.Anakin also knew that he was particularly close to Ahsoka, since he was the one who found and brought her to the Temple to become a Jedi.

Master Plo didn’t reply, except to reach for the chair at Anakin’s desk and rotate it towards the bed before sitting down.

“If you came here to tell me to not let my feelings cloud my judgment or something, you should just leave,” Anakin gritted, turning back onto his left side to face the wall once again.

_Why doesn’t anyone understand that I just want to be alone?_

Master Plo didn’t budge, and Anakin resisted the urge to sigh aloud.

“I am going to tell you a story,” Plo rumbled, voice low.“What you choose to do afterwards is entirely up to you, Anakin.”

Anakin paused, frowning.

“Fine,” he muttered, rolling himself onto his back so that he could stare up at the ceiling.

In the corner of his vision, Plo nodded.He exhaled slowly, as though he was gathering his thoughts.

“Years ago,” the Jedi Master began, quieter than Anakin expected, “there was a Padawan.”

Master Plo paused, and Anakin could almost feel the near-silent press of his emotions, soft yet easily noticeable in the Force.

“This Padawan, in particular, had an especially strong connection to his Master,” Plo continued.“Many believed that their bond was the strongest the Temple had ever seen.It was as though the Force itself had willed the bond into existence, long before the Master and Padawan had even met.”

Anakin sighed.This had all the makings of one of those old Jedi legends his instructors used to have him read, especially when he had first joined the Order.The stories themselves were somewhat interesting, but to him, they always seemed too simple, too _unrealistic_.

“Is there a point to this story?” he muttered, wishing Plo would just leave him alone.“Or are you just here to tell me to release everything into the Force?If you are, then you’re wasting your breath.”

Master Plo didn’t reply right away.Instead, he turned to look at Anakin directly for a long moment, as though he was studying him carefully.

Then he continued, almost as though he didn’t even hear Anakin speak.

“Despite the inherent strength of their bond, the Master never completely understood what he meant to his Padawan.There were…difficulties, differences of opinion.”Plo exhaled softly, bringing a hand up to his chin.

“The two of them had very different strengths within the Force, but somehow, they balanced each other out.Together, they were one of the strongest teams this Temple had ever seen,” Plo continued.

Anakin frowned, still staring up at the ceiling.This all sounded…familiar.It almost felt as though Master Plo was talking about him and Obi-Wan, but that wouldn’t make sense.Something about it didn’t completely line up.

“The Master never completely understood the Padawan’s gifts in the Unifying Force, instead trying to teach him the ways of the Living Force.The Padawan, on the other hand, was willing to do whatever it took to make his Master proud, often at the expense of his own health.”

“What?” Anakin croaked, surprised to hear of such difficulty.“What do you mean?”

Plo turned towards him, his Force presence gentle and warm.But Anakin could sense a quiet despondency in the way he sat and in the slump of his shoulders.

“The Master struggled with his own demons, and the Padawan often blamed himself for those struggles.So he took it upon himself to try and help.In response, the Master lashed out at him quite a few times.”

Anakin swallowed.At first, this seemed like a fairytale, a _myth_ , but it was very quickly becoming something more realistic and painful.

There _had_ to be a reason Plo was telling him about this.But Anakin couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Despite all of the difficulties, the Padawan sacrificed so much of himself, just to make his Master happy,” Plo continued.“It was never his responsibility to take care of his Master like that, but the Padawan must have believed that it was.”

“But…the Master must have noticed eventually, right?”Anakin leaned closer, looking up at Plo with a deep frown.

Abruptly, Plo sighed, shaking his head.“The Master never found out.”

“Why?” Anakin asked, finally sitting up and turning to face the Kel Dor Master.

A pause, then Plo spoke, his voice even quieter than before.

“Well,” he said, “the Sith returned.The Master was dealt a mortal blow by the Sith, the Padawan cut the Sith who had killed his Master in half, and then the Master died in the Padawan’s arms.”

Anakin’s mouth went dry.An ice-cold hand clenched itself around his heart, nearly cutting off his air.

“The Master didn’t even say goodbye, in the end,” Plo murmured, looking Anakin directly in the eyes.“But I think you already know that.”

Anakin did know that.He nodded, sinking back towards the wall, eyes burning.

Plo stood up slowly.“I will be sitting with Ahsoka outside.Just think about what I’ve told you.”He leaned over, pressing a comforting hand to Anakin’s shoulder, before he stood up.

Then he left the room, leaving Anakin alone with his thoughts.

* * *

The Halls were a lot quieter than they were this morning.

Ahsoka walked next to him, more silent than she’d ever been before.Anakin found himself unsure of what to say—he could sense her sorrow and desperation easily enough in the Force, echoing his own.

They walked in silence, and Master Plo followed.

As Anakin looked around briefly, he saw that there were very few Jedi around, since visiting hours were technically over.The only Jedi in the area besides himself, Ahsoka, and Plo were all Healers.

He’d visited Obi-Wan so many times ever since he returned from Bothawui that Anakin could probably navigate to the room with his eyes closed.But now, he felt as though he was walking in for the first time all over again, just because everything felt so different.

He found himself thinking of those moments, of walking in to see Obi-Wan sitting up, smiling at him softly.They would talk quietly, and Obi-Wan would listen to him with that brightness shining in his eyes. 

If Obi-Wan wasn’t up for much talking, Anakin would fill up the silence however he could, and Obi-Wan would listen.Or if Obi-Wan was having one of his bad days, Anakin would just sit with him and try to be there for him.

Now, things were different.

Anakin’s heart hung heavy in his chest, aching in a way he never thought it would.

He wasn’t ready for this, but he had little choice now.

It was obvious that he needed to do this, as much as he wished he could just turn around and hide away in his bed again.

It was time for him to face the reality of what happened, instead of trying to run away from it.

The three of them stopped outside the room, and Anakin took a deep breath, struggling to center himself.

“Master?” Ahsoka croaked.

He turned to face her, seeing the soft concern shining bright in her eyes.It surprised him—Ahsoka was already struggling with her own grief, but she still reached out to him in the Force, in a desperate attempt to comfort him.

“I…need to go in by myself, just for a few minutes.Is that okay?” he murmured, struggling to look at Ahsoka directly in the eyes.It was just— _too_ much.

Ahsoka nodded, and Anakin pressed a hand to her shoulder in gratitude.

Then, he turned away, took a deep breath, and entered the room, letting the door slide shut behind him.

The first thing he noticed was the quiet beeping sound.As he got closer to the bed, he realized it was from one of the machines next to the bed—it appeared to be a more advanced type of vitals monitor than what Anakin had seen earlier that day.

Unnerved at that realization, he turned to look at the bed.

Lying flat on his back with his eyes closed and a blanket drawn up to his chin, Obi-Wan looked smaller than Anakin had ever seen him.If he didn’t know better, Anakin would have thought he was sleeping.

Really, the only indication that Obi-Wan wasn’t just sleeping was the vitals monitor and the tube running into his mouth, courtesy of the machine breathing for him.Anakin took in the sight of the IV line running into Obi-Wan’s right wrist, attached to a bag hanging next to the vitals monitor.

Anakin swallowed.

“I’m here.”He reached out with his flesh hand and placed it on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Obi-Wan didn’t move, didn’t respond.A childish part of Anakin thought he’d wake up right away upon hearing Anakin’s voice, just like he always did in the past.

When he was younger, Anakin would run into Obi-Wan’s bedroom after a nightmare, and Obi-Wan would wake up and help him.Even later on, whenever Anakin needed something and Obi-Wan was sleeping, Obi-Wan would wake up as soon as he walked into the room.

Obi-Wan had _always_ been there for him, no matter what.

This was different.

Obi-Wan wasn’t going to wake up, not this time.

Anakin closed his eyes.

“I’m here,” he whispered, and the tears fell from his eyes, slow and potent.

This was reality, and Anakin had to face it.

_“I’m here.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> As usual, you can expect the next chapter in the next 2-3 weeks. See you then! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the progression of time, more truths are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome back!
> 
> I don't really have much to say here, so I'll let you get to reading. Enjoy! :)

A few minutes after Anakin went into Obi-Wan’s room, he came back out, eyes bright.In the Force, there was this feeling of quiet, aching despair—something that Ahsoka had never really sensed from him before.

“You ready, Snips?” he croaked, tilting his head towards the door.

Ahsoka nodded and stood up, turning towards Master Plo.

“I will be right here,” Plo reassured her, eyes crinkling around his goggles, “if you need anything.”

A rush of gratitude swelled up inside of her.Ahsoka smiled back at the Kel Dor Master before turning back towards Anakin.

Together, they walked through the door.

The room looked exactly the same as it did when she visited yesterday.The walls were the same off-white color, all of the plain furniture were placed in the same exact location as they were before, and the small window near the bed peeked out into the same view of one of the Temple’s gardens.

So much had changed since yesterday that a part of her thought the room would look completely different.

In reality, the only difference between yesterday and today was with the person lying on the bed.

Ahsoka’s blood ran cold at the sight of her Grandmaster lying there, looking as though he was asleep.She froze mid-step, stopping by the room’s entrance.She felt herself shaking, feeling as though she’d been left alone to face an impossible enemy.

Except this was no battlefield—there was no enemy to be defeated, nothing physical to drive this horrible feeling away from herself.

“Ahsoka?”

Anakin stood a few paces away, between Ahsoka and the bed, flesh hand outstretched.His voice was quiet and hoarse, a whisper of the loud, brash confidence he’d frequently displayed in the past.

In that moment, with the way Anakin’s eyes shone with desperate misery, one thing became very clear.

_He needs me, now more than ever—especially since Obi-Wan won’t be there for him._

With that realization, Ahsoka exhaled, willing herself to move forward and reach for Anakin’s hand.

Together, they walked closer to the bed, until they stood next to it, almost exactly where they were standing yesterday.

Now that she stood closer to Obi-Wan, it was more obvious that he wasn’t just sleeping.

There was a tube running into his mouth, one of those breathing tubes she’d seen medics and healers use for anyone who wasn’t able to breathe on their own. 

The unfamiliar-looking vitals monitor next to the bed had wires trailing underneath the blanket, and it beeped softly every few seconds, in a way that was equally comforting and disconcerting.

The IV bag next to the monitor steadily dripped medicine into a tube that ran into Obi-Wan’s wrist.

Her Grandmaster’s face was thinner than she remembered it being, and the pallor was somehow more noticeable, even with the dark smudges under his eyes.

Next to her, Anakin trembled.His flesh hand released hers, and with a hitched breath, he covered his face with both hands.

Ahsoka forced a breath in through her nose, though emotion welled deep in her chest, nearly overwhelming her.

Pressing her lips together, she swallowed.Then, she opened her mouth.

“Hello, Master Obi-Wan.”Her voice cracked.

She heard Anakin let out a quiet, muffled gasp, but she continued, shuffling closer to Anakin to support him as best as she could.

“Anakin and I miss you,” she continued.“It hasn’t even been a day, but it’s been a really difficult day.”

Ahsoka looked towards Anakin, who managed to pull his hands away from his face, looking down at Obi-Wan with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“The Healers say they don’t know if you’ll wake up.”Ahsoka swallowed, desperately forcing her own tears back.“I don’t—”

Her voice cracked again, and this time, she couldn’t stop the tears that spilled out of her eyes.Ahsoka shuddered, bringing up a hand to scrub them away.She felt Anakin wrap a hand around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

Closing her eyes, Ahsoka managed a few deep breaths.

“I don’t want you to leave us,” she whispered.“But if you feel that it’s time, then…I understand.”

Ahsoka reached a hand forward to latch onto Obi-Wan’s cold fingers, careful not to jostle the IV hooked into his wrist.

“I understand,” she repeated, “but I hope you come back to us soon.Who else is gonna help me with jar’kai?Definitely not _this_ guy.”A teary laugh escaped her lips as she gestured towards Anakin.

Anakin went still, though his arm remained wrapped around her shoulders, heavy, yet somehow stabilizing.

“So you have to wake up,” Ahsoka finished, voice trembling.“Take as long as you need, Master.We’ll be here.”

The quiet beeping of the machines next to the bed echoed into the quiet stillness of the room.

Ahsoka was not expecting Obi-Wan to reply, but the haunting silence that followed her words felt cold and oppressive.

More tears spilled out of her eyes, down her cheeks, and Anakin’s grip around her shoulders tightened.

“I’m gonna stay here for a while,” he rasped.“Maybe see if the Healers will let me spend the night.But you can head back with Master Plo, if you want.”

She didn’t even need to think about it.This was her lineage, after all—and more than that, Anakin and Obi-Wan both needed her.

“I’m staying,” Ahsoka said firmly, looking up at Anakin.“If you’re staying for the night, so will I, Master.”

Anakin’s bright eyes widened, his agonized shock spilling out into the Force, across their bond.

“Snips,” he breathed, voice trembling.“ _Ahsoka_.”

With his arm still wrapped around her shoulders, Ahsoka turned to face him, throwing her arms around his neck.Anakin fell easily into the hug, his head falling onto her shoulder with a quiet cry.

“It’s alright,” she murmured.“It’s going to be alright, Master.”

_It has to be._

* * *

When Anakin woke up the next morning, still sitting in the chair next to Obi-Wan’s bed, he felt…empty.

A part of him thought that everything that had happened may have been part of some horrible nightmare, but waking up to see Obi-Wan’s still form in front of him swiftly brought him back to reality.

Ahsoka was still deeply asleep in the chair next to him, head leaning back slightly.Anakin felt a twinge of guilt at the sight—this was the second night in a row that Ahsoka had stayed with him, instead of getting a proper night’s rest in her bed in her room.

She’d been so unbelievably strong through all of this—stronger than Anakin, for sure.

He would have to make it up to her at some point, when things felt more normal, probably.

But for now…

The quiet beeping of the vitals monitor turned him back towards Obi-Wan.

“Good morning, Master,” he whispered.He reached forward and placed his flesh hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

No response—nothing, except for the beeping, echoing into the stillness of the room.And beyond that, somewhere outside, Anakin could hear the sounds of the Healers starting their morning rounds.

In that exact moment, the door slid open.

Anakin stood up and turned around, watching as Master Che entered the room.

The Master Healer was silent, her eyes dark and tired.

Bant had mentioned that Che felt terrible about what had happened, but Anakin didn’t really believe her.Master Che was the one who caused _this_ to happen—she was the reason that Obi-Wan wouldn’t wake up now.

Whatever regret Master Che supposedly felt about what had happened did not matter now.It did not change the situation.It did not change anything.

“What do you want?” he snapped, eyes narrowing.

Master Che let out a quiet sigh.“We need to run some tests,” she replied, moving forward to tap gently at Ahsoka’s shoulder.

In response, Ahsoka stirred, letting out a quiet groan.

“I have to ask both of you to leave,” Master Che continued.“You both did spend the night, after all.”

Ahsoka was still in the process of actually waking up, but Anakin shook his head, holding his ground.

“How do I know that these ‘tests’ won’t make things worse?How can I _trust_ you?” he demanded, taking a step closer to the Healer.

Master Che raised a brow, clearly surprised at Anakin’s outburst.

“The tests are just an evaluation, nothing more.I understand your frustration, Knight Skywalker,” she said, voice low.“But you must understand the reasons we—no, the reasons _I_ —had for attempting what we did.”

“What, because Obi-Wan asked for it?” Anakin pressed.Something was burning deep in his stomach, and it felt _good_.“He was having hallucinations— _delusions_!He wasn’t in the position to be making decisions like that.”

Master Che let out a heavy sigh, which surprised Anakin _and_ Ahsoka, who was now sitting up properly in her chair, scrubbing the sleep out of her eyes.Then, the Healer dropped into the chair next to Ahsoka, suddenly looking a lot more tired than she did moments ago.

“There is something you must understand,” she murmured.“Even if we chose to not make the attempt, we would likely be in the same position that we are in right now, if not a worse one.”

Anakin’s heart dropped to his stomach.

_What?_

Master Che shook her head, leaning back in the chair.“He wasn’t going to last much longer, at the rate things were happening.”She looked at Obi-Wan for a brief moment, eyes softening.“It was a last resort.”

“That’s just what you say to make yourself feel better about what you’ve done,” Anakin replied, voice dripping with venom.“The truth is—you don’t care about Obi-Wan at all.You never did.”

“ _Master_.”Ahsoka’s voice was slightly groggy, but her shock came across easily in the Force, lighting up through their bond.

Master Che stood up, eyes bright.“I could have you banned for questioning our methods, Skywalker,” she said softly.

“Master, let’s just go,” Ahsoka pleaded.“I’m supposed to be in class in half an hour, anyways.We can always come back later.”

Anakin opened his mouth to argue back, the burning in his stomach urging him on and on, but then he stopped.He looked at Obi-Wan.

_He wouldn’t want me to act like this._

Anakin’s shoulders slumped.“Fine,” he mumbled.

In response, Ahsoka scrambled out of her seat before reaching for his hand and pulling him towards the door.Anakin took one final glance at Obi-Wan’s still form before following her out of the room.

As soon as he stepped into the corridor, Anakin was greeted with the sight of Master Plo standing directly in front of them.

“Master Plo?” Ahsoka said, voice colored with surprise.

The Kel Dor Master cleared his throat.“Good morning,” he greeted.“There are a few urgent matters we need to discuss.Would you both join me for breakfast?”

“Master, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to be in class in half an hour,” Ahsoka replied.“But I’m sure Master Skywalker would be happy to join you.”She gestured towards Anakin.

Plo paused.“Due to the circumstances, Ahsoka, you have been excused from all of your classes and assignments for the rest of the week.Your instructors have already been informed,” he said.

Ahsoka blinked, her surprise echoing into the Force.

“What is this about?” Anakin asked, feeling just as surprised and confused as his Padawan.

Master Plo turned towards him, brows furrowed.He appeared to be deep in thought, as though he was unsure of how to respond.

“The Sith,” he said in an undertone, barely discernible in the sounds of healers and droids moving around them.“The Sith—and your Master, Skywalker.”

Anakin’s heart dropped into his stomach as the Force shuddered.

This was all getting to be too much for him.Anakin desperately wanted everything to just stop, even for just a moment.

More than anything, he just wanted to run away.

Instead, he nodded, sensing the urgency in Plo’s presence.“I understand,” he replied.“Let’s talk in our quarters.”

As the three of them walked out of the Halls, the tightness in Anakin’s stomach continued to grow, filling him with dread.

This was just too much.He was going to reach his limit, and then…

Well, if Anakin was being honest, he didn’t really know.

And that was what scared him the most.

* * *

To say that Mace Windu was stressed would be a massive understatement.

Up until before a few days ago, before Obi-Wan had slipped into his coma, the Council had managed to distribute his short-term responsibilities among a few Knights and Masters, while keeping everything afloat.

But now that the truth about the Sith had been revealed, there was a lot more to be done to gather evidence against the Chancellor—all while keeping up pretenses, to make it appear to everyone outside the Order that nothing had happened at all.

In reality, each member of the Council was now involved with the investigation into the Chancellor and the Sith, intent on discovering the truth.

The most important thing, however, was to maintain appearances—to make sure no one outside of the Order suspected anything our of the ordinary.

Because if the Sith were to catch wind of what was truly happening, it would all be over.The Jedi Order would be lost.

And Mace Windu would not allow that to happen.He would not allow his family to fall, no matter what.

Sighing deeply, he looked down at his beeping commlink.

The Chancellor was requesting a meeting.

A part of him wanted to throw his commlink away so he could avoid talking to the man Obi-Wan had believed to be the Sith Master, but he knew that he couldn’t.

Palpatine must not suspect anything.

So instead, he responded to the request, agreeing to meet right away.He was still walking back to his quarters, but he might as well start the meeting now, to get it over with.

At the Chancellor’s confirmation, he pressed a button on his commlink, and a hologram of Palpatine appeared on his wrist, looking deeply perturbed.

_“Master Windu,”_ the Chancellor greeted, eyebrows furrowed.

“Chancellor,” he replied, nodding at the hologram.“You mentioned that there are a few matters you wish to discuss.”

_“Indeed,”_ Palpatine said, his hologram flickering and wavering slightly. _“I understand that you have been making significant changes to the structure of the Third Systems Army.”_

Ah, yes.Mace was sure the Chancellor would ask about that.These sorts of changes had to be approved by his office, after all. 

“I have.”Mace kept his voice quiet as he looked around the corridor.“Just a minute, Chancellor.This is something that we should discuss in private.”

He entered his quarters, closing the door behind him.Since the war had started, Mace had to make a requisition to the quartermasters for a desk and chair, both of which he’d moved into the corner of the common area.

Sitting down in front of the desk, he plugged his commlink into a port, allowing the hologram to grow into a more visible size.

Once he was settled, Mace nodded.“You were asking about the Third Systems Army?” he asked, crossing his arms.

The Chancellor frowned. _“My understanding of the situation was that Master Kenobi was well on his way to recovery, and that he and General Skywalker would be returning to frontlines within the next tenday,”_ he said pointedly, voice colored with a hint of frustration.

On the outside, it appeared as though the Chancellor was merely concerned about the state of the war, but Mace knew there was more to it than that.

Palpatine had always had an interest in Skywalker, even when he had first joined the Order as a youngling.

Something about it didn’t seem right, especially now, with the knowledge that Obi-Wan had given them.

Mace let out a sigh, letting his fingers rub at his temples for a brief moment.

“Unfortunately, things have taken a turn for the worse,” he murmured, allowing his own grief bleed into his voice.“Master Kenobi will not be returning, and neither will Knight Skywalker.”

_“And why not?”_ Palpatine snapped, frustration even more evident.His eyebrows were scrunched together, shoulders visibly tense even in the blue light of his hologram.

There was some reason that the Sith Lord _needed_ Anakin Skywalker to be involved in the war, that much was clear.The reason, whatever it was, would be the key to defeating the Sith—he was sure of it.

Mace’s own frustration swelled deep in his gut.

_You did this,_ he wanted to say. _You caused all of this to happen, and now the Jedi Order will lose one of its brightest lights._

_And now you intend to snuff the light of the Jedi Order out in its entirety, to allow darkness to reign free._

Sure, he did not know _how_ Palpatine caused this to happen, but he would find out soon enough, and that would make all the difference.

It was only a matter of time—time that Obi-Wan did not have.

“To be blunt,” Mace said instead, sighing wearily, “Master Kenobi is in a coma.Our Healers do not believe he will wake up.”

Palpatine’s face softened into what would appear—at first sight—to be sympathy.

_“Oh no,”_ Palpatine whispered, voice crackling. _“That is horrible news.May I ask what happened?”_

“There was damage to his brain,” Mace answered, the lie slipping easily through his teeth.“The Healers were unable to detect it before it was too late.”

He swallowed.

Palpatine’s hologram flickered as the Chancellor brought a hand up to his forehead and murmured something under his breath, a clear display of an old man shocked by horrible, devastating news.Mace would have believed it himself, if he didn’t know better.

_“Poor Anakin,”_ Palpatine murmured, bowing his head. _“He must be devastated.He had always spoken so fondly of Master Kenobi.”_

“Yes, well, because of that, the Council thought it best to pull him and his padawan from the war indefinitely,” Mace replied, leaning back in his chair.“It’s not ideal at all, to lose Kenobi and Skywalker at once, but I don’t think we have any other choice.”

A strange emotion flickered across the Chancellor’s features, so quickly that if Mace wasn’t looking for it, he wouldn’t have seen it.

_“It is unfortunate,”_ Palpatine replied, shoulders slumping, _“but I understand.Please pass on my sincere apologies to Anakin—I’ve been unable to reach him, and I worry about how he’s been handling all of this.”_

Mace nodded, and with a quick goodbye, the Chancellor’s hologram fizzled out of existence.With a heavy sigh, he slumped back into his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face.

The conversation certainly could have gone worse—a _lot_ worse.It seemed as though Palpatine didn’t suspect anything, but Mace could not tell if the Sith Lord’s reaction was genuine or if it was merely an act.

Regardless, there was no time to waste.He pulled his commlink out of the port and sent a quick message to the other Councilors who were still on Coruscant.

Then, he stood up and left his quarters.

There was much to do, and the clock was ticking.

* * *

“Like I said earlier, there are some urgent matters we need to discuss,” Master Plo began, voice serious.

“What is it?” Anakin asked, looking up from his plate with a deep frown.Ahsoka shifted uncomfortably in her seat, putting down her toast and looking at Plo as well.

The Kel Dor Master let out a sigh.There was a trickle of uncertainty emanating from Plo’s Force presence, something that Anakin had never really sensed from him before.

That uncertainty easily fed into Anakin’s own anxiety, forming knots in his stomach.

Suddenly, he didn’t feel so hungry anymore.He put his fork onto his plate, watching as it clattered softly with the ceramic material.

“The Council has been discussing everything that has happened,” Plo explained, clasping his hands together on the table.

Ahsoka blinked.“About Master Kenobi?” she asked. 

“Well—”

“Are the 212th going to be reassigned?What’s going to happen to the Third Systems Army?” Ahsoka continued, as though she didn’t hear Plo at all.

“Ahsoka, slow down,” Anakin said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Ahsoka deflated into her chair, shoulders slumping.“Sorry,” she mumbled.“I’m just worried.”

“I understand your concerns, Little Soka,” Plo rumbled, and a familiar gentle warmth emanated from his presence, soothing the worry in Anakin’s mind.

The three of them fell into a brief silence.

Anakin looked down at his plate, thinking back to Ahsoka’s questions.

Up until now, Obi-Wan and Commander Cody were the leading officers of all units in the Third Systems Army, which includes the 501st and the 212th.After Obi-Wan was admitted to the Halls, the Council had elected to have a few different Jedi take over Obi-Wan’s responsibilities.

However, this was not a permanent solution, and Anakin knew it.

“We will do our best to keep all units together,” Plo began, voice quiet.“The Council has yet to decide on who will take over Obi-Wan’s responsibilities on a more permanent basis.The 212th just returned to Coruscant earlier today with Master Vos and Knight Muln.”

Anakin nodded—the Jedi were getting more and more stretched thin by the war, and Obi-Wan’s situation would make things even more complicated.

“The 501st will be permanently reassigned as well, but we will do our best to keep them together.”

Ahsoka gasped, but the sound of it was drowned out by the blood roaring in Anakin’s ears.

“ _What_?”

Anakin surged to his feet, heart thundering in his chest.

“You’re reassigning my men?” he demanded.“You can’t do that!They need me—they need the _both_ of us, Master.”

Plo looked up at him, gesturing towards his chair.

With a huff, Anakin sat down.“You can’t do this.I work well with my men; it’s obvious!” he exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

“I know,” Plo replied, placing a gentle hand on Anakin’s shoulder.“I will do my best to explain everything to you, because I believe it is important for all of us to be on the same page.”

Anakin let out a breath, allowing himself to sink into his chair.

“There’s more to this, Master Plo?” Ahsoka asked, frowning.Her confusion was bright and noticeable in the Force, mixing easily with Anakin’s own anxiety.

Plo hesitated, his Force presence oddly muted.

_What is happening?_

Anakin couldn’t help but think that the Council was up to something, and based on how Plo was acting, whatever it was would probably affect Anakin greatly.

He couldn’t tell if the Council truly cared about him, or if this was all a matter of them wanting to keep Anakin reigned in, especially without Obi-Wan’s influence.

After all, they didn’t want him in the beginning.Maybe now that Obi-Wan wasn’t there, the Council believed they could do whatever they wanted with Anakin.

_No, it can’t be._

“What do you know about what Master Kenobi saw in his visions?” Plo asked, looking from Ahsoka to Anakin gravely.

Anakin’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he remembered what little Bant had told him, only two days ago.

“Not much.”Anakin frowned, struggling to remember Bant’s words.So much had happened since then that the memory had become slightly foggy.“There’s someone named Vader, right?Obi-Wan said that…he would kill me, along with the rest of the Jedi.”

Ahsoka’s shock barreled easily into the Force, bright and easily noticeable.Her hand latched desperately onto his flesh hand, as though it was a lifeline.

“But it’s not possible,” Anakin continued, a frantic edge overtaking his voice.“The Jedi can’t fall.We’re winning the war!”

Plo’s brows furrowed as he placed a hand on Anakin’s arm. 

“Anakin,” he said gently, and for a moment, despite the mask filtering his voice, he sounded exactly like Obi-Wan.“The Republic is not winning the war— _no one_ is.”

“What do you mean, Master Plo?”Ahsoka frowned, her voice shaking with disbelief.“I thought—I thought that things were getting better.”

Anakin agreed.He knew that the Jedi were being stretched thin and things were difficult in the Senate, but he assumed that it wasn’t too much, that they were still winning the war.

“The war is merely a distraction,” Plo said, voice quiet.“There’s something bigger happening, and it may very well lead to the end of the Jedi.”

Coldness seeped into the room, so potent and terrible that it took Anakin’s breath away.

“Because of Vader?” he heard himself ask.

Master Plo didn’t reply, and somehow, that spoke volumes more than anything he could have possibly said.

_“Haven’t you done enough?”_ Obi-Wan’s voice, a whisper of a forgotten moment from only a few days ago, echoed deep in his mind. _“…You threw away everything I ever tried to teach you.”_

The realization struck him at that moment, cold and harsh—it happened so suddenly that Anakin’s breath felt as though it was knocked out of him, and he couldn’t breathe.

_“…everything I ever tried to teach you…”_

He couldn’t _breathe_.

“No,” he gasped.

_“You—you_ killed _them…”_

In the heat of the moment, when Obi-Wan had been so consumed by what he had seen, Anakin barely thought about what Obi-Wan had said.And with everything that happened afterwards, there was simply no time for Anakin to think about it even further.

Plo’s words implied that the Council believed that there was an element of truth to Obi-Wan’s visions.And now, Anakin knew what Obi-Wan had seen about his own fate.

He would become Vader, and he would destroy the Jedi Order.

“Because of…” Anakin’s breath caught in his chest, as though his lungs had decided to just stop working.He forced air in through his nose, opening his mouth again.

“Master?”

Ahsoka’s voice echoed softly in his mind, but he could barely hear it over the echoing of Obi-Wan’s voice and the horrible ringing in his ears.

The Force trembled in his mind, rattling him further.

“Because of me,” Anakin managed, pulling himself to his feet unsteadily.

“Skywalker, listen—”

Anakin shook his head, taking a few steps back.The chair he was sitting in clattered to the floor, but he ignored it.

“My destiny is to destroy the Jedi Order,” Anakin whispered, taking another step back. “It never was to bring balance to the Force.”

Through the tears blurring his vision, he saw Ahsoka’s eyes widen, her Force presence lighting up with horrified shock.

“Because I am Vader.”

He needed out— _now_.

Anakin spun around and left the room before Ahsoka or Plo could think about stopping him, with the sole purpose of just getting away.

He couldn’t face his destiny, not when it was so full of the darkness he would bring to the Force because of his own actions.

More than that, he couldn’t bear to see the look on anyone’s face when they would inevitably discover the truth.

Anakin needed to be alone—and so, he was.

* * *

Darth Sidious sat back in his chair, stroking his chin.

This was an unexpected turn of events.

For so many years, Kenobi had stood in the way of his plans, forcing Sidious to make changes as pieces of his plan continued to move forward.Sidious had tried so many times to have Kenobi eliminated, but the Jedi always managed to survive, even in the most impossible of situations.

In the end, it turned out Sidious did not have to do anything substantial to have Kenobi sufficiently out of his way.Sidious did make sure that Kenobi was given as much war-related responsibilities as physically possiblePerhaps Kenobi’s illness could be attributed to that, to what Sidious had done.

In either case, Kenobi was nearly dead, if he wasn’t already.

_Good_.

He would have to adjust his plans, but it would be in a way that would speed up his rise to power, now that his future apprentice was more easily accessible.

Skywalker would fall, and there would be nothing to stop him.

And Sidious would laugh as the last flickering lights of the Jedi Order would blot out of existence, one by one, until only darkness remained.

Then, with Darth Vader by his side, his power would be absolute, all-encompassing.And most importantly, there would be nothing to stop him.

“ _I win_ ,” he whispered, grinning widely into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and supporting this story! I continue to be amazed at the response that it's getting.
> 
> As usual, you can expect the next chapter to be posted in 2-3 weeks (since I've been consistently sticking to that posting schedule).
> 
> Thanks again, and please leave a comment on your way out! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka searches for Anakin, and the Temple has an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I was all set to post this tomorrow, but then I figured it would be a nice surprise to post a little early :)
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! :)

As usual, the clone barracks were bright and cheerful, definitely livelier than Ahsoka had previously expected. Normally, she would make it a point to stop by and visit the clones whenever she could, but over the past few weeks, she found herself avoiding it.

She knew that the 212th had just returned to Coruscant with Masters Vos and Muln, while the 501st had remained on Coruscant ever since they returned from Bothawui a few weeks ago.

Rex had messaged her a few times since then, asking if she wanted to play sabacc or watch a holofilm with Torrent Company, but she politely declined every time. Ahsoka felt bad doing it, especially since she would normally jump at the opportunity to spend time with her men. This time, however, things were different— _very_ different.

But now, Ahsoka knew she couldn’t avoid it any longer.

With the 212th back on Coruscant, and her and Anakin being pulled from the frontlines indefinitely, she knew she had to break the news to Rex and Cody—even though she’d really rather not.

She walked towards the officers’ section of the barracks, spotting Fives and Echo gesturing animatedly at each other on the way. Ahsoka smiled softly at the sight, as their discussion sent a rush of joy into the Force.

It was refreshing, to be in the presence of such warmth and light, after feeling so lost and heavy in the wake of what had happened. A part of her wished she wouldn’t have to be the source of the devastation that would soon arrive, but the clones needed to know the truth.

And she knew that they would want to hear it from her, if not from Anakin.

Speaking of Anakin, a part of her thought—hoped, really—that he would be hiding out somewhere around here. But as soon as she walked in, she knew that wasn’t the case, since she couldn’t sense him anywhere nearby.

Ahsoka sighed. Master Plo had alerted the Council about his disappearance; she could only hope that they’d be able to track him down before things got much worse.

Ahsoka really, really wished Obi-Wan was here—he’d know what to do. It always seemed like he knew what to do, no matter the situation.

“Commander?”

She blinked, looking up at Waxer, who had spotted her from a few feet away. The clone trooper rushed over to her, eyes bright with joy.

“Hey, Waxer,” she greeted, nodding slowly.

Waxer was one of Obi-Wan’s men—in fact, she remembered Obi-Wan mentioning that he and Boil had saved him and Trapper on Geonosis, so long ago.

Waxer smiled, opening his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and Ahsoka’s stomach clenched.

_I can’t—I can’t tell him._

The clones knew that Obi-Wan was ill, but they didn’t know the true extent of it. She couldn’t bear to tell him, not like this.

She just wasn’t ready, not for any of this.

“Have you seen Rex and Cody?” she blurted out, before Waxer could say anything.

The clone trooper tilted his head towards the door leading into the officer barracks. “Last I heard, they’ve been caught up in an intense game of sabacc,” he replied, winking. “Cody’s probably handing Rex’s ass to him on a platter, if you ask me.”

Ahsoka let out a quiet laugh, nodding in thanks.

With a pang, she realized she couldn’t remember when she had last laughed. Doing it now, with everything that was happening, felt almost… _wrong_.

“Thanks, Waxer,” she replied, turning away before he could say anything more.

As she walked closer to the door, Rex’s bright happiness and Cody’s relaxed joy become more and more apparent in the Force.

Ahsoka could still sense Waxer, standing far behind her, his Force presence filled with intense curiosity.

Her chest tightened.

_I can’t do this; I can’t…_

An image of her Grandmaster passed through her mind, from a few months ago. She had just returned from Felucia with Anakin and Obi-Wan, and the three of them decided to cook dinner in Obi-Wan’s apartment and then watch a movie.

Needless to say, the three of them had failed to make any food at all, succeeded in nearly burning down Obi-Wan’s kitchen, and ended up ordering food from Dex’s instead.

But it had been worth it, to see the smiles on her Master and Grandmaster’s faces while they watched the holofilm, to just have that moment forever stored in her memory, frozen in time and always remembered.

Everything had been so…normal back then.

Ahsoka would give anything to go back to that moment—except she knew that she had to focus on the present, on the now.

On reality.

_I must tell them the truth._

With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked in.

Rex and Cody sat at a table nearby, both holding sabacc cards. Rex was sitting casually, leaning sideways against the wall, while Cody sat across from him, grinning.

As Ahsoka approached them, Rex turned to the side. His face brightened.

“Ahsoka!” he exclaimed, waving her over.

As soon as she sat down next to Rex, the Captain started talking, motioning animatedly around them.

“I was just telling Cody that when we head out next week, we should have a sabacc night with you and the Generals,” Rex said, gesturing towards Cody. “Do you think they’d be interested?”

Cody nodded in eager agreement. “General Kenobi did mention a while ago that he—Ahsoka?”

She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears had already sprung into her eyes and slipped down her cheeks at the sound of Obi-Wan’s name.

The world around her blurred into cold unfamiliarity, the Force screaming and crying as she cried along with it, bringing her hands up to her face. She trembled and shuddered and cried, for everything she, Anakin, and the clones had already lost, along with what they would lose in the future.

More than that, Ahsoka cried for her Grandmaster, who was slipping further and further away.

She felt warm arms wrapping around her shoulders, and she let out a hoarse cry, letting her head press against Rex’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Rex murmured softly. “Just breathe, kid.”

Ahsoka nodded shakily, forcing her lungs to work properly. Opening her mouth slightly, she breathed in heavy gasps, shaking and shuddering in Rex’s arms. Cody was crouched by her side, his warm arms loosely wrapped around her and Rex.

Eventually, the tightness in her chest abated, and Ahsoka slipped back, leaning against the table.

Rex smiled at her softly. “Are you alright?” he asked gently.

Ahsoka watched as Cody stood up, moving back to the seat across from her and Rex, looking at her intently.

She nodded, scrubbing at her eyes carefully.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It’s just—”

Her voice faded from her throat as she grappled for words, lost and unsure. Ahsoka didn’t even know where to begin with all of this.

Cody seemed to pick up on her indecision. He smiled at her softly, and the sight of it broke her heart even more.

“Take your time,” he said. “Rex and I can wait.”

Rex nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a half-hug.

Nodding slowly, Ahsoka bowed her head. Her mind flashed through everything that had happened over the past few days, starting with the day that Anakin came home from visiting Obi-Wan in the Halls, clearly upset about _something_.

After that, it didn’t take her much time to realize that her Grandmaster was not getting better, much like everyone had thought.

With that realization, however, came everything else that followed: the truth, followed quickly by the attempt to sever Obi-Wan’s connection to the Force, and then the coma. And now, she knew that she would not be returning to the frontlines, and about the darkness in Anakin’s destiny.

And there was even more than that: a truth that she couldn’t even bear to think about, about the Sith and the Chancellor.

“We’re not coming back,” she said roughly. She cleared her throat, feeling the rawness scraping inside of it. “The Council pulled us from the frontlines indefinitely.”

Rex’s surprised indignation barreled into the Force, a bright flame lighting up around his presence. “What?” he asked, shaking his head. “Why?”

“It’s…” Ahsoka shook her head, unsure of what to say.

She had the opportunity to contact Senator Amidala, when Anakin had been refusing to leave his room yesterday. At the time, Ahsoka had thought about it, but then she’d opted against it, realizing that with Obi-Wan’s last words, before the coma, she couldn’t fully trust anyone outside of the Order.

Of course, her suspicions about what Obi-Wan’s words actually meant turned out to be all too true.

And as much as she hated to admit it, that meant she couldn’t trust the clones.

She couldn’t tell them the truth—not the _full_ truth, at least.

“Something’s wrong with General Kenobi. He isn’t getting better, is he?”

Cody’s voice was quieter than she’d ever heard it, almost defeated.

“Cody,” she replied as she looked up at him, voice cracking horribly. “I’m sorry.”

The Commander’s eyes were hollow, bright with the same grief that Ahsoka saw whenever she looked in the mirror.

“What happened?” he asked, frowning slightly. “I’ve received communications from the Jedi Council saying that he was going to return next week. Generals Vos and Muln were saying the same thing throughout the mission, and General Kenobi sent me a message a few days ago confirming that.”

Ahsoka swallowed, feeling her voice catch somewhere in her chest.

“There was…brain damage that the Healers missed in the beginning,” she managed. “He’s in a coma, and it’s very likely that he won’t wake up.”

Rex’s arm tightened its grip around her shoulders, its warmth bringing her comfort and stability.

Cody looked back at her, eyebrows furrowed. By the tension in his jaw, Ahsoka would guess his teeth were clenched tightly together, in a desperate effort to reign in his emotions.

It didn’t work.

Cody shook his head violently. “No,” he replied, voice soft. “General Kenobi sent me a message three days ago, and he said that he was getting better. He said he’d be coming back next _week_!” His voice had risen sharply in volume, echoing in the room ever so slightly.

“Vod—” Rex began, reaching towards him with his free hand, but Cody cut him off harshly.

“It doesn’t make sense!” Cody exclaimed. “He was getting better—that’s what everyone was saying. That’s what _he_ was saying.”

“I know,” Ahsoka replied, trembling slightly. “Everything happened fast— _really_ fast. Part of it was that he was trying not to show just how bad it was, but…”

“It was bad,” Rex murmured. “It must have always been bad. General Kenobi probably didn’t want anyone to worry.”

Deflating, Cody closed his eyes, slumping back into his chair.

“Anakin’s not taking the news well,” Ahsoka explained. “The Council thought it would be best to pull him and me from the war effort, while…”

_While we figure out what to do next._

“The Council will probably contact you later today to discuss options for who should take over the 501st and 212th, as well as overall leadership for the Third Systems Army,” she said. “I just—I thought it would be best if you heard it from me, instead of them.”

The three of them lapsed into silence, Rex and Ahsoka both looking at Cody, who appeared to be deep in thought. Ahsoka resisted the urge to drum her fingers on the table, a nervous habit she’d picked from Anakin not too long ago.

Finally, Cody sighed, opening his eyes.

“Thank you for telling us,” he said. “Please tell us if…” His voice seemed to fail him.

“I will,” Ahsoka rasped, reaching over the table to squeeze Cody’s hand gently. “I promise.”

* * *

In the end, it wasn’t the fact that Master Yoda had somehow managed to sneak into his palace, or that his former Master had no interest in the conflict that had come between them, but rather the information that Yoda had provided that drew Dooku’s attention.

The fact that the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order was here in Serenno at all could mean easy victory for the likes of the Sith.

Dooku should have taken advantage of this by finishing off the ancient Jedi once and for all. He should have done what was decreed by the Sith—to destroy, to eliminate anything that stood in the way of obtaining true power.

What he should have done was ignite his lightsaber and run it through the Jedi who had stood before him.

But the words of his former Master had given him pause. He had stood, frozen, curved lightsaber hilt held in a tight grip.

 _“Live for much longer, he will not,”_ Yoda had said, and dread had pooled its way deep into Dooku’s gut.

_“Who?”_

The sorrow shining deep in the Jedi Master’s eyes was unlike anything Dooku had ever seen before, and the words that had followed only served to cement everything in place.

_“Your Grandpadawan.”_

That was all he needed to hear.

Despite his adamant refusal to join him on Geonosis, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a product of Dooku’s teaching, his _legacy_. More than that, Kenobi was all that was left of Qui-Gon Jinn. And even though the Dark Side now rang true in Dooku’s blood, he would always remember the innate goodness of his former Padawan.

Sidious or no Sidious, Obi-Wan would forever be tied to him—in a way that the Sith Master would _never_ understand.

 _“Show me,”_ he had said, and with that, he had agreed to return to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant for the first time in over a decade.

Which lead him to the now—on a freighter nearing Coruscant with Master Yoda and Master Mundi, Force suppression cuffs snapped on his wrists.

Dooku would have protested it, had he not had the realization that Sidious would easily sense his presence on Coruscant without the cuffs.

Perhaps the Jedi Order actually knew what they were doing, for once.

Besides, if he wanted to see his Grandpadawan, he would have to go along with the Jedi Council’s bidding, at least for now.

The trip was spent in silence, save for the rumbling of the freighter as it hurtled through space. There wasn’t much to do except to stare out the viewport at the blue lines of hyperspace and think.

And so he sat back in his chair and reflected on everything he knew—or rather, everything he _thought_ he knew. In that moment, something clicked.

There had to be a reason why the Jedi were approaching him with the news of what had happened.

_There is more to this than what meets the eye._

Dooku blinked, pulling his gaze away from the viewport to the form of his former Master, slumped on the copilot’s seat, clearly exhausted. Something deep inside of him twisted.

_I must find out what it is._

Within a half hour, Dooku found himself standing outside one of the private rooms in the Jedi Temple’s infirmary, staring at the datapad posted next to the door.

Yoda had not lied to him—not that Dooku ever suspected such a thing.

“Well?”

Windu’s voice cut into his thoughts. Dooku turned around to face the Korun Jedi Master, who stood between Yoda and Mundi, eyes narrowed. Next to them stood Healer Che, who was looking at him with fire burning in her eyes.

“Let me see him,” Dooku said.

The Jedi glanced at each other, and with a slight nod from Yoda, Windu moved forward to press his hand to a button next to the door, allowing it to slide open.

The still form of his Grandpadawan, hooked up to so many strange and unfamiliar machines, unmoving and quiet, tightened something inside Dooku’s chest. He walked closer and closer as blood rushed in his ears.

 _This_ was not supposed to happen. Although Sidious had always intended to have Obi-Wan killed along with the rest of the Jedi, Dooku disagreed, knowing that Obi-Wan would only meet his true potential without the limitations of the Jedi Order.

He had always intended for Obi-Wan to join him, and then together, they would take Sidious down.

But now…

Obi-Wan looked like a shadow of himself, fading away into nothingness. His face was grey, closed eyes sunken in, with a sense of fragility that Dooku had never seen from him before.

With the machine breathing for him, it almost looked as though he wasn’t alive at all, but there had to be a reason for the Jedi Healers to continue with all of this—wasn’t there?

The Jedi Healers wouldn’t keep someone alive like this unless they believed that they had a chance to actually survive.

There _had_ to be something else, and Dooku was determined to find out what it was.

Either way, he knew now what he had to do—it was obvious, almost painfully so.

“You wish to know more about Darth Sidious.”

It wasn’t a question. He was sure that what he had told Obi-Wan on Geonosis had circulated to the Council.

“That, among other things,” Windu replied from behind him, voice quiet.

Dooku hummed, reaching over place a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm. It felt similar to touching a block of ice, cold and unmoving.

_“Live for much longer, he will not.”_

His former Master’s words echoed in his mind, pained and desperate.

Dooku exhaled.

“I will tell you what you need to know,” he murmured, pulling away from his Grandpadawan and turning around to face Windu.

Windu raised an eyebrow in surprise, clearly not expecting Dooku to offer up any information at all about the Sith.

Dooku waited, hearing the quiet beeping of the machines next to him, equally persistent and discomforting.

The silence, however, wasn’t exactly uncomfortable; it felt more like a simple pause in a conversation, nothing more.

“Well, I suppose you should go ahead and gather the rest of your Council,” Dooku said, realizing that the Jedi would probably not say anything anytime soon. He walked towards the door, intent on leaving to begin telling them the truth.

“Why are you helping us?” Windu asked suddenly, eyebrows furrowed.

Dooku stopped, allowing his eyes to drop to the floor in front of him.

Long ago, he had walked away from the Jedi Order, intent on forging his own path ahead of him. That led him to the darkness of the Sith, disillusioned as he was with the Order.

He lead systems away from the Republic, formed the Separatist Alliance, and exposed himself as a Sith Lord, all in the name of the hope that he’d one day overtake his Master before he would achieve true power.

Dooku had done _all_ of that, but now…

“Why?” he repeated, and he turned around slowly to look at the man who had once been his friend, such a long time ago. “Because, Master Windu, it is what Qui-Gon Jinn would have done for his Padawan.”

* * *

It definitely wasn’t the first time Anakin had snuck out of the Temple, but something about this particular trip felt…strange.

Usually he would leave the Temple for escape, to visit Padmé or, when he was younger, to participate in some of the races in the lower levels. The time away from the Temple, however brief it was, had always been a source of joy for him.

He had always stepped outside of the Temple, desperate to feel the warmth of wonder singing in his veins.

This time, however, things were different.

Anakin did not escape from the Temple to seek out joy, but because of his fear.

It wasn’t even the fear of losing Obi-Wan that drove him away, but rather the fear of himself and who he would become.

Anakin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath.

The scent of the Senate Apartment Complex’s hangar, clean and well-maintained, rushed through his senses.

He could easily sense Padmé, her presence settling in for the night, all the way at the top of the building. He was so, so tempted to run up to her apartment and take comfort in the stability of her presence, but…

He could hurt her. It would be so _easy_.

Anakin sighed again, leaning back against his speeder.

“What do I do?” he murmured.

He found himself wishing he could talk to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan would know what to do; he would say all the right things to pull Anakin away from the darkness in his destiny.

After all, it had always been Obi-Wan who kept Anakin’s darkness at bay.

Everything seemed to come together now.

Obi-Wan had chosen to ask the Healers to sever his connection to the Force. It hadn’t been in a rush of delirium, like Anakin had previously thought, but with the knowledge that Anakin would become Vader. Obi-Wan must have believed that he could have helped prevent it.

Obi-Wan had been willing to sacrifice his status as a Jedi, his ability to feel the Force, his _livelihood_ , all for Anakin.

Swallowing, Anakin sat down, propping himself back against the speeder.

“Obi-Wan,” he murmured, “what do I _do_?”

He could almost hear Obi-Wan’s voice in his head at this point, echoing from somewhere deep in his memories.

_“Go home.”_

“I can’t,” he bit out, shaking his head. “I’m destined to kill them all; what if I—what if I just lose it?”

No answer—not that he was expecting one.

“I want to,” Anakin continued. “But if I…”

He curled into himself, pressing back into his speeder even more.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I’m so scared, and I need you, Obi-Wan.”

Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to his knees, making himself as small as physically possible. Anakin wanted nothing more than to just…disappear, even for just a second.

The agonizing fear he felt rushing through him wasn’t _for_ himself, but _of_ himself. Anakin was scared of who he was, and who he would become.

More than that, he was scared that Obi-Wan would slip away, and Anakin would lose the person who had fought for him without pause for over a decade, ever since he left Tatooine as a child.

It felt as though the weight of the galaxy had fallen onto his shoulders, but he’d also been exposed to the darkness residing inside of him, and he simply couldn’t turn away.

Because deep down inside of him, he could feel the burn of the darkness, calling to him.

It would be so _easy_ to just give in…

All it would take was a single step, and then he would fall.

Or had he fallen already?

He’d slaughtered all of those Tusken Raiders before the war began, feeling the hatred sing in his blood.

Maybe this was all an act—maybe he wasn’t a Jedi and he was just pretending to be one this whole time.

Who…who was he, really?

A warm hand pressed itself onto his shoulder, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, lifting his head and sliding himself sideways, _away_.

Then he blinked.

“Ahsoka?”

His Padawan was crouched in front of him, eyes bright.

“Master,” she said, clearly relieved, “I was so _worried_. I—”

Anakin scrambled backwards. “Get away from me, Ahsoka,” he rasped, pulling himself to his feet.

He couldn’t afford to hurt her—she was all she had left now, besides Padmé. She was his padawan; he was supposed to protect her and guide her, not hurt her and cause her pain.

Ahsoka’s eyes softened as she stood up, putting her hands in front of her in a placating gesture.

“Anakin, listen to me.” Ahsoka’s voice echoed slightly in the hangar. “There’s more that you don’t know about that’s been happening. You have to come back to the Temple.”

“I can’t,” he snapped. “Don’t you get it, Ahsoka? Everything is going to fall apart, and it will be my fault because I will hurt so many people. I can’t go back.”

“That’s only a possibility, not fact,” Ahsoka argued, taking a step closer. “I will help you, and Master Plo said the Council will, too. We’re your family—don’t you understand that? We can figure this out, but you have to come home.”

_“Go home.”_

The quiet whisper of Obi-Wan’s voice echoed in his mind, calm and sure.

“I…”

“Obi-Wan needs you,” Ahsoka whispered, voice shaking. “And so do I.”

Anakin swallowed, feeling uncertainty crawl up his throat.

A flash of a memory crossed his vision—a crowded gunship on Geonosis, Obi-Wan standing before him, eyes wild. Padmé had fallen out of the ship, and Anakin had been on the verge of jumping out to find her, but then Obi-Wan stopped him.

 _“I need you!”_ he had exclaimed, his desperation screaming out into the Force.

Obi-Wan needed him. He had needed him then, and he needed him now.

“I’m scared,” Anakin admitted, looking directly into her eyes. “Ahsoka, I’m so scared.”

“I know,” she replied, taking another step closer to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “We can figure this out, Anakin. Just…trust me, okay?”

He could easily trust Ahsoka, more than he could trust himself.

Anakin nodded sharply.

“I trust you,” he whispered, voice shaking. His hands moved, almost of their own volition, pulling her into a desperate hug.

“And I trust you, Anakin,” she murmured, voice muffled by his robes. “I always will, no matter what.”

* * *

Sidious rewinded the footage from the Senate Apartment Complex hangar again, until he heard the words that spilled out of Skywalker’s mouth.

_“Everything is going to fall apart, and it will be my fault because I will hurt so many people.”_

He paused the footage, frowning slightly.

It almost sounded as though Skywalker was aware of his destiny, that somehow he knew who he was destined to become.

More than that, it was possible that Skywalker knew that the Sith and Darth Vader were his future.

And Tano’s response only confirmed it.

_“That’s only a possibility, not fact.”_

Sidious hummed as he paused the footage again, catching the Togruta’s wide, expressive features mid-sentence.

“Only a possibility, not fact,” Sidious repeated, voice croaking slightly.

He stood up and walked over to the window, where he could clearly see the Jedi Temple, its towers clearly visible against the night sky.

The Force was stirring, in a strange way he hadn’t experienced before.

But one thing was clear: somehow, Skywalker had learned about his future.

This only meant he was more unstable than before, especially without Kenobi to keep him anchored to the Light.

“Possibility, not fact,” he murmured.

The darkness inside of him surged, a quiet and deadly storm.

That very possibility would _become_ fact, and Tano would soon be regretting her words.

It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh...things are definitely heating up :)
> 
> Thanks for reading! I've already made some progress on Chapter 8, so I'm hoping that it'll be done in 2-3 weeks, as usual. See you then!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More truths are revealed, but time is running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, and welcome back! :)
> 
> Today, I come with an extra-long chapter because everyone seemed to be extra talkative or something *shrugs*.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

It didn’t take very long for Mace to gather the Councilors who were in-Temple for an emergency meeting. By the time he and Dooku entered the Council Chambers, everyone was seated and ready.

Well, _almost_ ready—there was an awkward silence filling the chamber now, and Mace could easily feel the exhausted uncertainty feeding itself into the Force.

The investigation into the Chancellor’s origins was not going as well as he had initially hoped. It seemed as though Palpatine had covered his tracks well, leaving behind no indication of Sith-like corruption, let alone anything strange in his past.

Masters Tiin and Koth were both currently en route to Naboo to investigate further, but Mace was beginning to think that they would find nothing substantial.

At this point, he had no choice but to hope that Dooku would reveal something that would tip the scales in their favor.

“Well?” the former Jedi asked, crossing his arms across his chest. “What would you like to know?”

Mace looked at Master Yoda, who looked at his former Padawan with a strange mixture of hope and suspicion.

It made sense—Dooku held all of the answers, but how did they know that what he told them would be the truth?

“How do we know we can trust anything you say?” Master Mundi asked, echoing Mace’s thoughts. He leaned forward in his chair, frowning slightly.

Dooku turned to face Mundi, eyebrows raised.

“I may have turned away from the Jedi,” he replied, “but I am no liar, and I do not intend on changing that now.”

Mace nodded slowly, realizing that Dooku had not ever lied to them, at least not directly.

“Now that my Grandpadawan’s life hangs in the balance, I find my priorities lie elsewhere,” Dooku continued, looking directly at Mace.

“If you do not mind my asking, where do they lie?” Plo asked. From where he sat next to him, Mace could see the underlying tension set his shoulders, the worried angle of his brow.

Of course Plo was worried—they all were.

Dooku uncrossed his arms, letting them rest at his sides. Then, he sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump.

“They lie with the memory of my padawan,” he answered, voice quiet. “They always have been, and they always will.”

Plo nodded, and the chamber lapsed into silence.

Mace shifted forward in his seat. “There are a few things that have recently come to light,” he said, “and we would like some clarification.”

He hesitated, and as though she sensed his uncertainty in the Force, Depa spoke.

“We have reason to believe that the Sith Master, Darth Sidious, is none other than the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic,” she declared, voice echoing slightly in the chamber. “Is this true or not?”

The Force shuddered as his former padawan spoke, shatterpoints crushing themselves into his mind with the weight of her words.

This very moment would be the one that would change everything—because it could possibly confirm that everything that Obi-Wan had seen.

Mace could feel the Force holding its breath, almost in waiting, as though everything stood on a sharp precipice.

Dooku’s eyes narrowed. “It is true,” he said simply.

Closing his eyes, Mace slumped back into his chair. It was one thing to only consider the idea of Palpatine possibly being the Sith Master, the one controlling both sides of the war and plunging the galaxy in darkness; it was another thing to have it confirmed by his apprentice.

Master Yoda hummed as the Force erupted into quiet chaos, each of the Councilors too shocked to speak.

Mace opened his eyes to see that Dooku, still cut off from the Force, was somehow able to pick up on their shock.

“May I ask how you were able to come by this information?”

Mace looked around the room, finally catching Master Yoda’s eye. The ancient Master nodded at him, and the Force hummed in agreement.

Still, the logical part of his mind hesitated.

Dooku sighed, having noticed his indecision. “Really, at this point, you have me here as a prisoner. Even if I wanted to, I have no way to contact him, and none of you are going to let me out of your sight, correct?” he asked, indicating his cuffed wrists. “If you truly need my help, you must tell me everything.”

There were so many shatterpoints surrounding this moment that Mace didn’t even know where to begin with trying to understand it all.

Breathing slowly, he looked around at the other Councilors around him, each of them nodding at him in encouragement.

“It was Obi-Wan,” he said finally. “He had some sort of vision.”

Dooku’s eyebrows furrowed, a desperate sort of confusion creeping up around his presence.

“A vision?” he repeated. “Is this vision the reason why he is slipping away into the Force? What, exactly, has happened to my Grandpadawan?” There was a surge of bright outrage pulsing out of his presence, sharp and powerful.

Adi shifted in her chair, her eyebrows pulling together slightly.

“The Healers can provide you with the exact details about what happened,” she said. “However, there is more that Obi-Wan told us. If we are to stop the Chancellor, we must work together. You must tell us everything you know.”

“Very well,” Dooku replied, eyes narrowed. “I will tell you what you need to know, as long as you allow me unrestricted access to Master Kenobi’s medical records.”

It seemed as though Dooku was curious about the mystery surrounding what happened to Obi-Wan. Mace understood that, but he couldn’t help but think that at this point, it wouldn’t help Obi-Wan.

Maybe it was already too late, but…it was worth a try.

The Force hummed, and Mace nodded at Dooku in silent agreement. 

“There are two important parts of his plan,” Dooku continued, turning towards Master Yoda. “One of them is regarding Skywalker.”

“He intends to turn him to the Dark Side and have him destroy the Jedi Order,” Mace said, crossing his arms. 

Dooku’s surprise barreled into the Force before it settled, like a wave hitting a crest and then dropping down to a constant medium, almost at a quiet hum.

“Obi-Wan saw it happen, and he was able to tell us,” he continued, turning towards Plo. “Have you heard from Padawan Tano?”

The Kel Dor Master nodded sharply. “Ahsoka has tracked Skywalker down. They’re returning to the Temple as we speak.”

When Mace heard about what had happened—about Skywalker learning the truth about his future and running off, he’d feared the worst. A part of him worried that the Chancellor had enough sway over the young Jedi’s mind, especially when Skywalker still didn’t know the truth about Palpatine’s identity.

“That is a relief,” he murmured, and then he looked up at Dooku. “That is most of what we have been able to learn, but you mentioned that there was something else.”

Before his very eyes, another shatterpoint formed. Whatever this second piece of information was, Mace suspected that it would change _everything_.

The fact that the Supreme Chancellor, the sole leader of the Republic, was the Sith Lord responsible for the war and all the destruction it brought was already incredibly overwhelming. Adding that to the fact that he intended to turn Anakin Skywalker against them made Mace feel even more uneasy about the situation.

But there was more—of _course_ there was.

“Well?” Mace asked. “What is it?”

Dooku let out a quiet breath, his sudden hesitance echoing out into the Force.

“It is about your clone troopers,” he said. “If you truly wish for the Order to survive, we must act as quickly as possible, before it is too late.”

The urgency in Dooku’s voice was even more worrying that the words themselves. Mace _knew_ Dooku—he knew that usually nothing would faze him, that he had always been steady and sure.

The very survival of the Jedi Order hinged on this moment, and Mace would do everything to make sure

“Understood,” Mace said. “Tell us what we need to know, and we will go from there.”

In response, Dooku nodded sharply, and then, he began.

* * *

The last thing Ahsoka expected when she and Anakin walked into Obi-Wan’s room the next morning was to see Master Plo and Count Dooku sitting at her Grandmaster’s bedside, in deep and quiet conversation. Plo had told her yesterday that Dooku would be coming to the Temple, but there was a difference between hearing it and seeing it with her own two eyes.

Anakin stopped mid-step, his shock lighting up the Force like a spark of electricity.

“What is _he_ doing here?” he demanded, pointing a shaking finger at Dooku.

“Master,” Ahsoka said, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s alright. He’s here to help.”

Anakin trembled, taking a step forward, shoving her hand off of his arm.

“To _help_?” he cried, and then he spun around to face Ahsoka, eyes wild. “Did you forget that he’s a Sith Lord? Did you forget that he did _this_ to me?” He gestured at his mech hand.

“Anakin,” Ahsoka murmured. “Just let him talk, okay? You know he wouldn’t be allowed in here without good reason.”

Her Master sighed. Then, he turned, looking at Obi-Wan, who looked exactly the same as he did yesterday, in a way that was horribly unsettling and scary, and—

Ahsoka’s jaw clenched.

“How is he?” Anakin asked quietly, looking at Master Plo.

The Kel Dor Master bowed his head, and in the slump of his posture, Ahsoka could feel his grief and devastation shining brightly in the Force, along with an exhaustion that spoke volumes.

“The Healers have told me that there was no change,” Plo answered. “I am sorry, Anakin.”

Something in Ahsoka’s throat tightened, and she swallowed as Anakin turned towards Dooku, eyes burning with desperate sorrow.

“Then _you_ can do something to help him,” Anakin said, words dripping with venom. “With your Dark Side magic, right? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Dooku’s eyes flashed. “Even if there was something I could do to wake him, I would not,” he replied. When Anakin opened his mouth to protest, Dooku continued, voice cold. “Do you think your Master would want to wake up to learn that he had been wrenched back to life by mercy of the Dark Side?”

Anakin blinked, shoulders trembling. Ahsoka felt his emotions well up against her shields, powerful enough to break them down.

But then, Anakin’s overwhelming presence retreated, and his eyes fell to the ground.

“No,” he whispered, “of course not.”

Above everything else, Ahsoka’s Grandmaster was a Jedi. That was the core of his identity, after all. Ahsoka noticed it herself right away when she first met him on Christophsis.

Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force had always been warm and bright—a constant point of focalized stability. While Anakin blazed like a raging inferno, Obi-Wan had always been like a sun.

But now, against all odds, the sun’s light had spluttered out of existence, until all that remained was a tiny, wavering flame.

Ahsoka glanced at her Grandmaster, taking in the drawn features, the slight furrow of his brow, and the machines and wires surrounding him.

_Wake up_ , she whispered, in a fleeting moment of desperate hope, into the bond she still shared with him. 

_We need you, Master._

_Please._

As expected, Obi-Wan did not respond.

Master Plo suggested that she and Anakin sit across from him and Dooku, on the other side of Obi-Wan’s bed. There was an odd-looking cuff on one of Dooku’s wrists, and when she prodded ever so slightly towards him in the Force, she noticed that his presence was oddly muted, difficult to detect.

By the time she sat down, Ahsoka felt a knot in her throat, as though there was just something stuck there, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t swallow it down.

She was sure that Dooku and Plo would finally tell Anakin about the Chancellor.

A part of her had wanted to tell him as soon as they returned to the Temple last night, but by the time they did return, it was already well past midnight. Anakin was physically and emotionally exhausted at the time, and she hadn’t even known where she would begin.

Anakin had been close to the Chancellor for a long time, considering just how frequently Anakin would visit him whenever they were on Coruscant. Obi-Wan had mentioned it off-hand a few months ago, and there had been a flash of quiet concern in that moment, but Ahsoka hadn’t thought much of it back then.

She found herself regretting it now. Anakin’s deep connection to the Chancellor would make this even more difficult, especially without Obi-Wan.

If there ever was a moment that Anakin needed Obi-Wan, it was now.

“Anakin,” Plo said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I know that yesterday was difficult for you, and I’m sorry about what has happened. I did not intend for you to find out the truth that way.”

Anakin swallowed, and his flesh hand rested itself on top of Obi-Wan’s.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, voice shaking. Then he looked up, eyes bright. “Don’t you get it? As a Jedi, I’m not supposed to be scared. Fear leads to the Dark Side, but there is darkness in my destiny, and I am _scared_ of it.”

Anakin’s emotions burned in the Force, a raging inferno that spilled across their bond so effortlessly that Ahsoka breathed sharply in surprise. In the silence that followed his words, the beeping of the monitors rang softly into her montrals, quiet and steady.

“Tell me what I am supposed to do,” Anakin insisted, looking up at Master Plo.

The Kel Dor Master seemed to glance at Dooku for a split-second, though Ahsoka couldn’t tell for sure without being able to see his eyes behind his goggles. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, nearly a whisper.

“The future that you speak of, Skywalker, is one of many possibilities,” he said. “We can prevent it, not by making rash decisions or jumping to conclusions, but by standing together as one. As Jedi, we must trust in the Force and use what we know to make logical and informed decisions.”

As Plo spoke, Dooku’s eyebrows twitched, pulling together ever so slightly.

“The Jedi are your family, Anakin,” Plo continued. “Master Yoda has brought Dooku here to learn more information about the Sith. We will not let your Master’s sacrifice go in vain, nor will we let you fall into the hands of the Sith.”

Plo’s presence, cool and reassuring, extended outwards. Ahsoka closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, allowing herself to bask in that stability.

She was just…so tired.

So much had happened over the past few days that it was all making her head spin, and the worst part was that she knew that it wasn’t even close to being over. She couldn’t help but think that even if Anakin managed to stay rooted in the Light and the Order managed to survive and get Palpatine arrested, everything still wouldn’t be alright.

Ahsoka opened her eyes to look at her Grandmaster, silent and unresponsive on the bed.

She couldn’t help but think that even in a reality where everything went the right way, her Grandmaster wouldn’t be awake to see it, or worse.

Anakin deflated, sinking back into his chair.

“What do we do?” he asked, voice small. “What do _I_ do?”

Plo’s head shifted, his goggles turning to face Dooku, who gave him a short nod.

“There is more that you must know, Anakin,” Plo replied, “but you must listen carefully, because what I am about to tell you will change many things. Do you understand?”

Anakin’s eyes widened just slightly, and Ahsoka watched as his flesh hand tightened its grip on Obi-Wan’s hand, as though it was somehow keeping him grounded in the moment. Her heart twisted at the sight.

Plo turned to look at Anakin directly, and there was something in his posture that emphasized the gravity of what he was about to say.

“The Sith Master is none other than the leader of the Republic, Chancellor Palpatine,” he said, voice quiet.

Ahsoka already knew this, but hearing it again from Master Plo seemed to only make it more real. Dread pooled deep in her stomach as the room’s temperature seemed to drop, and she shivered.

She watched as Anakin’s jaw tightened, as his fingers squeezed on Obi-Wan’s, nearly jostling the wires trailing out of his wrist.

Anakin’s eyes closed as he bowed his head, trembling slightly.

“ _Sidious—Palpatine_ ,” he muttered a few moments later, looking up at Plo. “That was what Obi-Wan said, at the end.”

“Darth Sidious is his Sith name.” Dooku’s eyes, bright and intense and just _too_ much, were focused on Anakin. “On Geonosis, I told your Master about Sidious’ control over the Republic Senate, but not about his identity.”

Plo nodded slowly. “The Council was already aware of Darth Sidious, but we had no way to confirm his identity, until Master Che told Master Yoda and Windu what happened,” he explained.

Anakin swallowed, his eyes flicking up to meet Ahsoka’s. “So Obi-Wan saw it?” he croaked, voice trembling. “When the healers were…doing _that_ to him, he saw that Darth Sidious is Chancellor Palpatine?”

“That is the only explanation,” Plo answered, and he tilted his head towards Dooku. “Count Dooku has confirmed it to the Council, too.”

Anakin didn’t reply, instead pulling his hand away from Obi-Wan and wrapping his arms around himself. To Ahsoka, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to disappear, to be far away from all of this.

“Master?” she said, placing a hand on his arm.

“I’m…I don’t—” Anakin cut himself off, shaking his head in morbid disbelief. “I’ve spent so much time with _him_ ever since I became a Jedi. I thought…I thought it was because he cared about me.”

Ahsoka felt his despair almost as easily as her own, pouring out into the Force almost incessantly. She forced herself to breathe, to keep herself calm and still while feeling Anakin fall apart.

She had to be the strong one now. That much was clear.

“His intention was to groom you into becoming his apprentice,” Dooku said, looking at Anakin steadily. “That was his plan, from the beginning. He would use you to destroy the Jedi, and then he would take the galaxy for himself, to do as he pleases.”

Anakin paled, turning to look at Obi-Wan. “If…if none of this happened, if Obi-Wan hadn’t—” He cut himself off, unable to continue.

“Then it’s very likely that he would have succeeded,” Dooku replied. “I had—an _idea_ to overtake him, but I know now that it would not have worked, as much as I wished otherwise.”

Anakin’s mouth opened, and then it closed. Ahsoka waited a few moments, wondering if Anakin would say anything in response, but it looked like he was at a loss for words.

She could relate to that.

“Master?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle. “We can figure this out. It’s good that we know about this; it means we can figure out a plan to stop him.”

Plo nodded in agreement. “The Council has been working to find some concrete evidence against Palpatine that can be used to convict him,” he explained. “If we do, the Senate can deem him unfit for office, and a new Chancellor can be elected.”

Anakin swallowed. “What’s stopping us from using Dooku’s word as evidence and arresting him? Shouldn’t that be enough?” he asked.

He had a point, now that Ahsoka thought about it.

“With Count Dooku on our side, we can end the war peacefully, then the Chancellor will be forced to give up his powers,” Ahsoka said, gesturing towards Dooku. “Or we can arrest him if he refuses, right?”

“No,” Dooku said emphatically, voice hard. “Sidious has been controlling both sides of the war. If he suspects anything to be out of the ordinary, he will turn to his final resort, and the Jedi will fall.”

“His final resort?” Ahsoka echoed, tilting her head. “What does that mean?”

It was clear that there was more to this than she expected, given the way Count Dooku and Master Plo exchanged glances at her question. Eventually, Master Plo nodded deeply and leaned back in his chair, allowing Dooku to respond.

“Although your clones have been commissioned by Master Sifo-Dyas, the Kaminoans’ true allegiance lies with Sidious,” Dooku explained. “Each of the clones have a control chip, programmed with over one hundred contingency orders. When any of those orders are activated by Sidious, the clones would have no choice but to follow orders.”

Ahsoka frowned. “What do you mean?” she asked. “The clones have been…programmed to follow these orders, without hesitation?”

Master Plo nodded. “What Count Dooku is saying is that the clones can and will turn on the Jedi, because it has been programmed into these chips,” he said. “There is a specific order that would declare the Jedi as traitors to the Republic. Under this order, the Chancellor can command the troops to—”

His voice faded, as though the words were too difficult for him to say.

“Order 66,” Dooku said, giving Plo a meaningful look. “It would allow the clones to remove the Jedi officers by lethal force.”

Bile climbed up Ahsoka’s throat so suddenly that she swallowed it reflexively, feeling it burn down into her stomach. There were tears in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, and she felt as though something was squeezing around her lungs, constricting her.

She couldn’t _breathe_.

Next to her, Anakin was trembling.

Even Plo seemed to be reeling, despite the fact that he already knew about this. He had sunken back into his chair, his head slightly bowed.

Right, Master Plo had a deep connection with his men, just like she and Anakin did. This was hurting him as much as her and Anakin.

“Sidious intends to use this to destroy the Jedi Order—all of it,” Dooku continued. His eyes fixed on Ahsoka’s, deep and brown and _intense_. “And with Skywalker in his grasp, he would be able to rule the galaxy as he pleases.”

She had to assume that Dooku had already told the Council about this, but would it be enough?

Would it be enough to save her family?

Where would she even begin to stop all of this from happening?

“Then there’s no way out,” Anakin murmured, bowing his head. From where she sat next to him, Ahsoka could see the dark shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.

For all that she claimed that she would be able to help him, Ahsoka didn’t even know where to begin with that.

“There’s no hope.” Anakin’s voice was a whisper of breath barely vibrating through her montrals.

“That is not true,” Master Plo replied, sitting upright again. “The Council is actively working to find a solution to all of this. Right now, it is important for us to appear as though nothing has changed. All of the Jedi on the front lines are aware of the inhibitor chips and the Order.”

Ahsoka sank into her chair, scrubbing her hands over her eyes.

She just spoke to Rex and Cody _yesterday_. They could have…she could have…

Ahsoka cared about them so much. She’d fought alongside them for so long, they taught her so much, and now…

“We need to get those chips out,” she heard herself say, though her voice sounded far away.

Plo nodded. “The Council agrees,” he said, “but we have to do it in a way that wouldn’t attract attention from the Senate or from the Kaminoans.”

She pulled her hands away from her face, looking directly at Obi-Wan. The beeping of the vitals monitors rang into her montrals, unsettling and reassuring all at once. More than anything, she wished he was awake now. He would know exactly what to do—he _always_ knew what to do.

She knew that Anakin needed Obi-Wan—desperately.

“For now, Anakin, you must stay in the Temple at all times,” Plo said, as though he was reading her thoughts. “Without Obi-Wan, the Chancellor probably thinks it would be easier to get to you. No matter what, I promise that we will protect you from him.”

“I—” Anakin swallowed, still trembling. He turned towards Ahsoka, eyes bright and wild.

She could feel his desperate uncertainty in the Force, screaming out for help.

“There’s something you should know,” he said. “I—I’ve done some things, and…” Anakin turned towards Obi-Wan, desperately grabbing his hand again. “And I’m sorry.”

Plo’s brows raised as he shifted forward in his seat.

“No matter what you’ve done in the past, Anakin,” he said, voice quiet, “we will help you. The Order does not turn its back on any of its members.”

Dooku had fallen silent, his eyebrows creased into a frown. Ahsoka noticed that he was seated closer to Obi-Wan, his hand resting on her Grandmaster’s shoulder.

The sight of it was definitely…strange.

Anakin took a deep breath, drawing her attention back to him.

“I…I broke the Jedi Code,” he said. “I’m married to Senator Amidala.”

Ahsoka blinked, shock curling in her stomach. She had always suspected that there was something going on between Anakin and Padmé, but…marriage?

Plo shifted in his chair, brows drawn together ever so slightly. “Anakin—”

“There’s more,” Anakin said, and Plo gestured at him to continue.

Anakin took a deep breath, looking at Obi-Wan again. He put Obi-Wan’s hand back down on the bed, letting it rest at his side.

“I…before Geonosis, before the war started, I was having visions of my mother,” Anakin explained. “They weren’t like Obi-Wan’s visions, but they were about her dying, and I was scared.”

Ahsoka frowned. She knew, from the rumors, that Anakin had come to the Order late, probably around the same time she did. Based on that, it made sense that he remembered his mother.

“You told the Council that you took Senator Amidala to Tatooine to investigate this,” Plo said gently. “And you found your mother’s body in the Tusken Raiders’ camp, correct?”

Something in Ahsoka’s stomach twisted as she realized exactly where this was going.

Anakin nodded sharply, shaking more visibly than before.

“I—when I found her, I was upset. And angry… _really_ angry. So I…” He swallowed, shaking his head. “So I killed them. The Tusken Raiders— _all_ of them.”

Ahsoka’s throat went dry as the room went completely silent, save for the quiet beeping of the vitals monitors.

Plo sat directly across from her, frozen in his seat in a clear display of shock. His Force presence suddenly felt very distant, as though he’d shielded himself away to process his emotions. Next to him, Dooku’s eyebrows were raised, his hands folded tightly in his lap.

Ahsoka forced herself to breathe.

“It’s just—they _killed_ her, and I hated them for taking her away from me,” Anakin said, swallowing roughly. “It was…I felt the Dark Side so strongly then.”

“And now?”

Plo’s voice was a croak, barely recognizable. Ahsoka winced at the sound of it.

“Now?” Anakin asked, frowning.

“Now what do you feel?” Plo asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Anakin looked down, closing his eyes. “I feel…sorrow,” he murmured. “I should have done better. I should have _known_ better. And I’m sorry.”

Plo hummed. “You understand that I will have to tell the rest of the Council about this, and there will be consequences,” he said, voice gentle. 

At Anakin’s nod, he continued.

“But this will not change the fact that the Order will do what it can to protect you from Sidious. We will not turn our back on you, Anakin Skywalker.” Plo’s eyes crinkled around his goggles, in that way that told her that he was smiling.

Anakin shuddered, curling into himself. Ahsoka felt herself rise from her chair, throwing her arms around Anakin’s shoulders.

“It’s alright,” she whispered, voice muffled. “I’m here, no matter what.”

“Thank you,” he whispered back, still shaking in her arms. “Thank you, Snips.”

* * *

“Master?”

Vokara looked up to see Bant standing in front of her, datapad in hand.

“Bant,” she replied, gesturing for her friend to sit down on the couch next to her. “Has there been any change?”

Bant sighed and sat down heavily, placing the datapad in her lap.

“Nothing,” she replied. “Is this…I’m worried that there is nothing left—nothing left that we can do, and nothing left of Obi-Wan.”

Vokara hummed, bowing her head.

“Is there any indication that he is seeing something now?” she asked.

They had discussed the possibility two days ago, when Obi-Wan first slipped into the coma, that he had been pulled so deeply into a vision that his mind couldn’t escape it.

If it was true, Obi-Wan may be trapped in his own mind, unable to escape from the relentless visions, slipping further and further away from reality until his mind and his body would give up. It was possible that his body would just continue to shut down until the Healers would have to resort to using machines to keep him alive.

Vokara refused to believe they had reached that point already.

Bant shook her head. “Brain activity has remained the same—very low, but present,” she replied. “Reflexes are mostly normal, if a bit sluggish. And his presence in the Force remains unreachable, even for Anakin and Ahsoka.”

Closing her eyes, Vokara leaned back, staring up at the ceiling.

“We cannot keep this going forever, especially if we are prolonging his suffering,” Vokara said, voice cracking.

She never expected this to happen, that it would come to this.

“There’s still time,” Bant insisted. “We don’t know—”

“That is the problem, Bant,” Vokara said, sitting up and turning towards her friend. “We do not know what we are dealing with. We do not know if this is some sort of illness that we haven’t accounted for, or if it’s a deliberate attack from the Sith, or something else.”

Bant’s eyes lowered.

“I know,” she replied. “But that means we are at the mercy of this…mystery. _Obi-Wan_ is at its mercy, and it is not fair to him.”

Vokara could feel her anguish as easily as her own, spilling out into the Force. There was grief in Bant’s voice that echoed her own, and a sense of desperation that she also felt in her own mind.

“None of this is fair to him.” Vokara’s voice trembled. “But—”

A high-pitched beeping noise cut her off, causing Bant to jump in surprise.

With trembling fingers, Vokara reached for her commlink, frowning down at the frequency displayed on the monitor.

She pressed a button and waited for Master Windu’s image to show up, a small flickering hologram on her wrist.

“Master Windu,” she greeted.

_“Healer Che,”_ he replied, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. _“I’m afraid we have a situation.”_

Though his words were as mild as usual, there was an underlying current of tension in the Force that told her that this was a lot more than just a mere “situation.”

But she knew what this was: the Council believed there was a possibility that the Sith were listening in on all of their conversations via commlink, after all.

They had to be careful.

“What sort of situation?” she asked, frowning.

_“The Chancellor has heard about Master Kenobi’s condition,”_ he explained.

Vokara’s stomach twisted as Bant gasped quietly, her hand flying to her mouth.

“I see,” she replied, keeping her voice steady.

Windu’s hologram flickered as he nodded. _“He insists on a visit right away, to convey his best wishes. I tried to explain that Obi-Wan is in no condition for visitors outside of the Order, but…He’s walking over to the Halls right now.”_

Oh…oh, _no_.

The Sith Master was coming to the Halls to visit one of her most critical patients, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it.

Bant’s shoulders trembled in shock, the same shock that Vokara felt pooling deep in her gut.

They only had _minutes_ , and right now, Count Dooku was sitting in Obi-Wan’s room. If he were to be discovered by the Chancellor, then…

Then all would be lost. Darth Sidious would learn of the betrayal, and he would activate the inhibitor chips.

The Jedi Order would fall.

Vokara’s forced herself to breathe as her heart sank deep into her stomach, leaving her cold and nauseous.

“Understood, Master Windu,” she croaked. “I will make the necessary preparations.”

Then, with shaking fingers, she thumbed off the commlink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So everything is going wonderfully well for everyone right now, right??? :)
> 
> As usual, I'm aiming to post the next chapter in 2-3 weeks, so see you then!
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkness arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome back!
> 
> Okay, just like with Chapter 4: this chapter is A Lot. Take a breath before you start.
> 
> Alright, if you're ready, enjoy! :)

The Force shuddered with frenzied urgency.

Frowning, Anakin turned towards Master Plo, whose brows were furrowed deeply around his goggles.

“Is something wrong?” Dooku asked, looking at Anakin and Ahsoka intensely. He lifted up a cuffed hand. “I cannot access the Force, but the three of you look unsettled.”

“I’m not sure,” Ahsoka replied slowly, looking around the room with hesitation. Her confusion was mixing easily with the odd discomfort in the Force, making Anakin feel even more nervous than before. “I think—”

The door slid open, and a frantic Bant Eerin rushed into the room, panting and gasping for air.

“Master Eerin?” Anakin croaked.

“You…” Bant panted, turning towards Dooku and pointing at him. “You need to get out, _now_.”

“Pardon me?” Dooku frowned, his displeasure lighting up in the Force like a beacon.

Bant shook her head, struggling to catch her breath. “The Chancellor is on his way here; he’s already in the Temple. You probably have five minutes at most until he’s in the Halls.”

Two seconds of stunned silence passed, then—

“Well, shit.”

Anakin probably would have laughed at Ahsoka’s declaration if the situation wasn’t so dire. Instead, he agreed—this was bad, _really_ bad.

If Palpatine learned that Dooku was here, then he would learn about Dooku’s betrayal. At that point, he would probably have no choice but to activate the inhibitor chips, and it was just too early. The Jedi were not ready.

The four of them surged to their feet at once, all surrounding Obi-Wan’s bed.

“Let me escort you back to the Council Chambers,” Plo offered, turning towards Dooku. “Anakin, I think it might be best if—”

“I’m staying,” Anakin said forcefully. “No way am I letting Obi-Wan be alone with _him_ , not even for a second.”

Plo’s brows furrowed. “He intends to bring you to his side, Anakin,” he replied, voice quiet and uncertain.

“I _know_ ,” Anakin replied, swallowing down the tightness in his throat, “but you know he would find it strange if Ahsoka and I weren’t here. Just get Dooku out before it’s too late.”

With a slow nod, Plo began to move to the door. Dooku followed, only to stop right before the exit.

“Be careful,” Dooku murmured, turning back to look at Anakin over his shoulder. “There must be a reason for this visit.”

“Understood,” Anakin replied, nodding back at him.

As Plo and Dooku left the room, Bant rushed over to where they were sitting before, moving their chairs away, to the opposite side of the room. Anakin and Ahsoka sat back down, and Anakin found himself reaching for Obi-Wan’s hand once again.

The hand was cold and unresponsive, but the familiarity of it was comforting enough. From where he sat, Anakin could hear the slow and quiet intakes of Obi-Wan’s breaths, barely discernible over the beeping and whirring of the machines around them.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

If Obi-Wan just…woke up now, everything would be alright. Obi-Wan would know what to do, especially now that the truth had been revealed. To Anakin, this made no sense. Obi-Wan had never left him alone, not once. Why would he do it now, when Anakin needed him most?

Sighing, Anakin closed his eyes, struggling to ignore the knots forming in his stomach. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, and he felt himself shaking again, even when Ahsoka wrapped her arm around his shoulders and leaned against him.

He heard Ahsoka and Bant talking, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on their conversation. The Force felt odd, as though it was shuddering and trembling with each passing moment. Anakin was caught in its wave, pulled along with no warning, caught deep in its currents.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

It was all too much— _way_ too much.

“Master?”

Ahsoka’s voice was distant, an echoing memory barely discernible over the ringing and beeping in his ears.

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

A hand tapped at his shoulder, and he blinked heavily, looking up at Bant, who was kneeling in front of him, brows furrowed.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I can sense him, and it’s terrifying.”

Through the dull roar of blood rushing in his ears, he could hear the beeping of the machines around him, echoing ever so slightly. Was it him, or was the beeping getting faster?

_Beep, beep, beep, beep…_

Palpatine’s presence felt more and more clear as he got closer and closer. The Chancellor was nothing more than a pure void in the Force—not quite Light or Dark, but just…nothingness.

It was a near-perfect disguise, impossible to notice, except Anakin knew exactly who he was and what to look for.

“Anakin?”

Bant’s voice echoed oddly, but it brought him out of his thoughts, forcing him to look across the bed to where she stood, head tilted.

She smiled, though something about it seemed unconvincing.

“Just be careful,” she said. She opened her mouth to continue speaking, but whatever she said was drowned out by the sound of the Force screaming in his mind, at the same exact moment the monitors around them started screeching.

Obi-Wan’s wrist jerked against his hand, and Anakin felt his own body go completely numb with shock. Distantly, he heard Ahsoka cry out in horrified shock.

There were arms pulling him out of his chair and back, dragging him away from the bed. Anakin blinked, and then Bant was leaning over Obi-Wan, desperately giving chest compressions.

The Force shattered.

He felt himself fall to his knees, and then over the wailing of the monitors, Bant shouted. Anakin couldn’t make out what she said, but the hands on his shoulders were pulling away, and then he felt the vibrations of quick footsteps running out of the room.

Anakin blinked, and then there were other Healers in the room. There was an unfamiliar machine being rolled up to the bed with wires and paddles, and—

He couldn’t breathe—it felt as though his own heart had stopped, as though his lungs refused to take in any more air.

The room was blurring around him, and the Force grew more and more turbulent, as it screamed and cried and _burned_ somewhere within him.

There was Light and Dark and loss, unlike anything Anakin had ever experienced before, and it was too much— _way_ too much.

“Oh, my.”

The voice—so instinctively familiar and comforting, yet so horrible and eerie—made Anakin feel as though the Force itself had just stopped, completely frozen in time.

Through his blurred vision, he saw Master Che charging up the defibrillator and bringing the paddles onto Obi-Wan’s chest. A horrifying whine echoed through the room, and Obi-Wan’s body jerked upward lifelessly, before falling back onto the bed with a heavy thump.

The monitors continued to scream, and Obi-Wan remained completely still.

“My boy,” the voice continued, and there was a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it would be best if you got some air.” There was a feeling of…something _strange_ in the Force that echoed with the words, and before Anakin could even examine it further, he was being pulled up to his feet.

Before he could even protest, Anakin was being pulled away. The last sight he had of Obi-Wan was blocked by Master Che charging up the paddles again, shouting commands to the other Healers.

Anakin was too numb—too numb to speak or move or even _think_. He didn’t notice when he was pulled out through the door and into a closet across the hallway. He could barely register who it was that was pulling him away from Obi-Wan.

He couldn’t even recognize anything besides the feeling of the emptiness in his mind.

The bond he had with Obi-Wan was…gone. He couldn’t sense him anymore.

The sound of the closet door sliding shut pulled Anakin away from his thoughts, and his head snapped up.

Chancellor Palpatine stood in front of him, eyebrows pulled into a deep frown.

“We need to talk,” the Sith Master said, and through the fog in his mind, Anakin shook his head, taking a few steps back.

He needed to get _away_ from him, but how? Anakin felt as though he was frozen in place, as though his feet had been glued to the floor beneath him.

“I—Obi-Wan needs me; I can’t—” he managed, voice shuddering in his throat.

Palpatine hummed, leaning back against the door. “You know who I am, don’t you?” he asked, completely ignoring Anakin’s words.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you mean,” Anakin choked. Tears blurred his vision, streaming out of his eyes and down his cheeks. He couldn’t breathe properly; it felt as though he was just shaking too much to get in enough air.

The Force continued screaming in his mind, as though it had lost something that would never return, as though _he_ had lost…

“Please; Obi-Wan—he needs me,” Anakin gasped, knees trembling so much that he felt as though he would just fall to the ground, or fall _through_ the ground, underneath the Temple, all the way down, down, down…

Palpatine took two steps forward, shoving his face right in front of Anakin’s. The Sith Lord’s face was twisted into devastating malice, worse than anything Anakin had ever seen.

“Your Master’s life is in _my_ hands,” Palpatine hissed as he took a step closer to Anakin, voice deep and chilling all at once. He lifted a hand, squeezing it into a fist. “All it would take is just one more—”

“ _No_ ,” Anakin whispered, and he fell to his knees, bowing his head. “Please, don’t… _please_.”

A pause, then Sidious spoke, voice crackling with terrible gravity, sending shivers up Anakin’s spine.

“I think it would be best if we talked elsewhere,” he mused, voice icy. “Don’t you agree?”

Anakin nodded, cold tears spilling down his cheeks. “Please,” he murmured. “Just spare him.”

It all made sense now. _Palpatine_ was the one doing this to Obi-Wan, starting with the visions and then the stroke, the hallucinations, the coma, and now…

“Walk me to my speeder. If any of your Jedi ask, you will simply tell them that you are escorting me back to my home,” Palpatine commanded, and then Anakin was being forcefully pulled to his feet, though his legs felt as though they couldn’t hold his weight.

This was too much— _way_ too much.

Anakin took in a shuddering breath and nodded shakily. The tightness around his body dropped, leaving him standing unsteadily in front of Sidious.

He blinked, and before his eyes, the hatred on Sidious’ face disappeared, leaving behind the kind, familiar visage of Sheev Palpatine, the man who had helped him and supported him for so many years.

Of course, Anakin now knew that it was a lie. All of the visits, the false reassurances, the _praises_ that would send warmth into Anakin’s body and would make him feel so sure and confident about himself…all of that was a lie.

And now, Palpatine had won.

It was all over—the Republic had lost; the _Jedi_ had lost.

“Come along, then,” the Sith said. “We have much to do.”

The door opened, and Anakin followed him out.

* * *

Ahsoka couldn’t find Anakin.

After Master Eerin sent her out to get help, Ahsoka found Master Che and Master Windu, who were already running towards Obi-Wan’s room. She had to assume that they’d sensed that _something_ was wrong, just from how the Force screamed and shuddered all at once.

She’d asked them about the Chancellor as they ran by, and Master Windu replied, saying that in the chaos that had broken out from the Force’s sudden rupture, the Chancellor had slipped away from them.

And that realization—that the Sith Master was loose somewhere in the Temple—was a horrifying realization for Ahsoka to have.

Worse, when she came back to Obi-Wan’s room, through the crowd of Healers surrounding the bed and the harsh screeching of the monitors, she did not see Anakin.

Heart climbing up her throat, Ahsoka ran through the Halls, searching through the Force for her Master. It was difficult to sense him; it was as though something had smothered his presence completely, leaving him blurred and nearly impossible to detect.

It was only when she ran out of the Halls, blindly moving through the Temple’s corridors, that she spotted Anakin, walking right next to Palpatine.

The sight of it sent her racing forward, desperate to pull her Master away from the Sith Lord, the monster whose primary intention, first and foremost, was to destroy.

“Master!” she shouted, and Anakin stopped, turning around to face her. Next to him, Sidious turned, face masked with a cold neutrality.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin replied, nodding slowly. There was a strange tension in his jaw, something that said so much more than the casual tone of his voice. His eyes were slightly unfocused, as though he couldn’t really see her for some reason.

“Where are you going?” she asked. “The Healers—they might need your help.”

Anakin smiled a horribly empty smile that sent shivers down her spine. Ahsoka’s breathing hitched, but she forced herself to stay calm, knowing that everything could go wrong in a single moment.

“Oh, I’m just gonna escort the Chancellor to his speeder,” Anakin replied, but then he pressed his lips together in a way that showed that there was more to what he was saying, more to _all_ of this.

Ahsoka’s heart thudded in her chest in a strange staccato beat. She inhaled slowly, struggling to ground herself against the strangeness she felt emanating from Anakin’s presence. He felt…dull, almost closed off and distant.

Her throat went dry. What was she supposed to say? If she protested, the Chancellor—the _Sith_ —would somehow activate those inhibitor chips Master Plo was talking about, and then…

But Anakin was being taken away from the Temple, against his own will. She had to stop it somehow.

“Wait, what about Master Kenobi?” she asked. “I came back to the room, and it was…it was looking bad, Master.”

She didn’t even know if he was still alive. Her bond with him had dissolved into nothingness, and his presence had faded away.

Anakin paled, shifting uncomfortably. Next to him, the Chancellor’s eyebrows were narrowed, and the Force felt so strange, shifting oddly, almost painfully, in her mind.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, Ahsoka,” he replied, voice hollow and unconvincing. “Just…stay with him, okay? No matter what, just…”

His voice trailed off, and he bowed his head, both hands clenched into fists.

“I understand,” Ahsoka whispered. “I’ll see you soon, Master.”

And then she had no choice but to watch her Master walk side-by-side with the Chancellor towards the darkness of the hangar, into the hands of the Sith.

Anakin was gone, that much was obvious. Sure, he said that he was only taking the Chancellor—the Sith Master, the one responsible for _all_ of this—to his speeder, but it was obvious that it was a lie.

In the chaos of the last few minutes, she had lost her Master, and she didn’t know if he would be coming back—or worse, if he would be himself when he did return.

Ahsoka stood in the empty corridor, staring at the spot where her Master once stood, frozen to the spot.

Then, as though something had flipped a switch in her mind, Ahsoka spun around, racing back to the Halls of Healing.

As she ran, the corridors of the Temple blurred around her, morphing into a distant memory. Voices echoed in her mind, pulling her away from the Temple, away from the urgency driving her feet forward.

It was…when she was a youngling, not long after she’d first arrived in the Temple. The only thing she could really remember from her first days at the Temple was the warmth of Master Plo’s hand, and his voice.

But there was something else, now that she thought about it.

Ahsoka stopped suddenly, chest heaving for air. In her mind’s eye, she could see her younger self, around four years old, wandering this very corridor with bright, curious eyes. Ahsoka could remember how big everything felt—the statues, the high vaulted ceilings, and so many Jedi of different species walking around her.

She had been curious, and the Force had felt so warm and bright, nothing like how it felt now.

It came to her in flashes—a tall human kneeling down in front of her, warm hands on her shoulders. The human’s eyes were…bright and sad, hooded with pained exhaustion, now that she thought about it.

And by instinct, she had reached out to the human in the Force, and a bond—as small and imperceptible as it was—had sprung itself into existence. She hadn’t even noticed it, not until many years later, when the bond had grown just a little in strength.

She blinked, and the grey-blue eyes flashed through her vision, familiar and comforting all at once. There was a voice that echoed deep in her memory, lilting ever so slightly with a Coruscanti accent.

_Obi-Wan_.

Shaking her head, Ahsoka pulled herself out of the memory.

She needed to get to the Halls of Healing, _now_. Before it was too late.

Ahsoka took off again, running faster than before. Obi-Wan’s voice echoed in her mind now, louder than before. She couldn’t quite hear what he was saying; it was as though his voice was muffled, whispery.

The Halls were quiet as she rushed in. It was strange, something she’d never witnessed before, despite the sheer number of times she’d been here.

She didn’t let it stop her. Ahsoka raced forward, rushing through the door leading to patient rooms and taking the oh-so-familiar path to her Grandmaster’s room. As she got closer and closer, she realized the horrible ringing sounds had stopped.

It was over—whatever it was.

Ahsoka paused outside of the door, sending a quick prayer to the Force that she wasn’t too late, that Obi-Wan was still _there_ , alive.

Then, she opened the door.

Master Che stood by the bed, eyes lowered to the ground. Bant stood directly in Ahsoka’s line of vision, fumbling with the wires of one of the machines. Then, she moved, rolling the machine to the side, and Ahsoka saw him.

The tube running into Obi-Wan’s mouth was gone, but the IV running into his wrist was still there, oddly enough. He stared up at the ceiling with blank eyes, so distant and lifeless that Ahsoka couldn’t help but wonder if she was too late.

But then he blinked, and Ahsoka took in the sight of the heart monitor that was still beeping, reassuring and disconcerting all at once.

“Master?” she croaked, taking a step forward.

Obi-Wan didn’t move at all. It was almost as though he didn’t hear her.

Bant turned towards her, her eyes shining with exhaustion and concern. Ahsoka felt a sense of quiet despondency emanating from her Force presence, similar to what she felt like when she came to her and Anakin and told them about Obi-Wan’s coma.

But now…he was awake.

Wasn’t he?

“Master,” Ahsoka repeated, walking closer to her Grandmaster. Her mouth fumbled for words, her mind blanking at the lack of responsiveness in Obi-Wan’s eyes. He continued staring up at the ceiling, as though there was something there that just…

Her jaw clenched so tightly that she could feel her teeth grinding together.

“Master Kenobi, Anakin’s gone,” Ahsoka said, voice desperate. “He needs your help. The Sith…they took him, and there’s no way to bring him back.”

She could feel Master Che and Bant’s shock filtering into the Force, but Ahsoka continued, undeterred.

“We need your help,” she said. “Please.”

She took another step forward and placed her hand on Obi-Wan’s arm, shaking it gently.

No response—in fact, it felt as though she was touching ice.

“Ahsoka,” Bant whispered, voice gentle. “He isn’t…it may look like he’s awake, but nothing has really changed. None of us can reach him.”

Master Che shifted, finally lifting her head to look directly at Ahsoka. Then she sighed, turning towards Bant with a knowing look.

“It appears to be some sort of catatonic state,” the Master Healer said, frowning. “Are you able to reach him through your bond, Padawan Tano?”

“I…I can’t even sense his presence, let alone use the bond. That’s not how it was before,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I thought he was gone. I thought…” 

Master Che hummed. “We cannot even sense him in the Force, and right now, it appears as though he is simply not responding to external stimuli,” she replied. “But I think it is vital you speak to the Council about Skywalker.”

Closing her eyes, Ahsoka nodded. She stepped back, stomach twisting at the dull blankness in Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Bringing Anakin back was all on her now, as much as she wished otherwise.

Anakin was gone, and it was only a matter of time before Darth Sidious would learn the truth. She needed to warn the Council and hope that they could prepare themselves for what she assumed would happen next.

The inhibitor chips would be activated, and Order 66 would begin.

There was no stopping it now.

Ahsoka could only wish that Anakin would come back to them and that the Order would be ready for the storm that was about to be unleashed.

There was no time to waste.

* * *

“Tell me everything.”

Anakin blinked, looking up into the yellow eyes of the Sith Master. The sight of it—the fury, the anger, and the hate—was chilling. He shivered, shrinking back in his chair, struggling to turn his head away.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t move, not even an inch. It was as though Palpatine was holding him in place with the Force, but it felt all…wrong. Anakin could feel the sheer darkness of it, in the way that his skin burned with every movement, with the strange fuzziness in his head.

He couldn’t think properly, especially with how empty his mind felt.

Obi-Wan was just…gone. Anakin was used to feeling his presence somewhere in his mind, no matter the distance between them. Even with the illness and the coma, Anakin was still able to sense Obi-Wan, but the light in his mind was dwindling.

And now there was nothing left of Obi-Wan in Anakin’s mind. Nothing, except for the memory of his presence, the memory of his words.

“Did you hear me, boy?” Sidious sneered, and Anakin felt as though the darkness was constricting itself around him, squeezing itself around his lungs, to the point that he could hardly breathe.

He let out a gasp, reeling forward in his chair until the tightness around his chest loosened just enough for him to gulp in some air.

In the back of his mind, Anakin knew that he could fight back. He was the Chosen One, wasn’t he? He should be able to overpower and defeat Palpatine.

Master Qui-Gon had believed that, after all.

But in reality, Anakin was helpless, and he knew it. Palpatine said it himself—Obi-Wan’s life was in Sidious’ hands, and more than that, the inhibitor chips could activate at any moment. It would just take a single second for Anakin to lose everything.

He had to be careful with what he said, or else…

“What do you want to know?” he asked, voice scraping against his throat with a horrible dryness.

“You know who you will become,” the Sith intoned, voice deep. He took a step forward, and Anakin felt the darkness emanating off of him, almost like a boiling rage that spilled out into the Force.

It _burned_.

“Tell me,” Sidious continued. “How do you know?”

Anakin swallowed, struggling to piece the memories together. He couldn’t think; everything felt so strange and distant.

“I…” he murmured. He blinked, and in his mind’s eye, he saw Obi-Wan opening his eyes into half-slits, struggling to breathe with the oxygen mask. His mouth opened just slightly, and in Anakin’s mind, his voice echoed, a whispered memory.

_“Sidious—Palpatine.”_

And just as Anakin remembered, Obi-Wan’s eyes closed and his head turned away as he dropped into unconsciousness.

Sidious hummed. “I see.”

The Force shuddered, and Anakin felt something burn in his mind, a raging inferno. The darkness wrapped around him squeezed at his lungs, and he let out a choked gasp, feeling something squeezing at his throat.

As he struggled for air, more memories flashed before his eyes.

Bant walking into his quarters with pain in her eyes, her voice echoing oddly as she told him and Ahsoka that Obi-Wan was in a coma.

Then, Master Plo sitting in his bedroom, telling him about Obi-Wan, Master Qui-Gon, and unsaid goodbyes.

Another flash, and then Dooku sitting at Obi-Wan’s bedside, holding onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder with a surprising amount of gentleness.

Then, Dooku’s voice, echoing in his mind the second truth that he had only just learned hours ago: _“Order 66—to destroy the Jedi Order.”_

And finally, Plo’s reassurance that the Order will not turn their back on him, and the warmth that Anakin felt in that moment, at the realization that he had a family, even with the crimes he had committed.

A ripple of surprise, and then his mind was ripped harshly back to the present. Anakin let out a choked cry as the darkness rooted itself in his mind, burning him inside out. There was a surge of fire, consuming him, _burning_ him.

He couldn’t breathe at all. All he could feel was the burning and the pain raging itself in his mind, destroying his thoughts and memories in a single moment. It made it difficult to think—he could hardly remember his own name, let alone anything else.

The grip around his neck tightened, and he let out a choked scream as it squeezed even tighter, dragging him upwards, out of the chair. He was hanging mid-air, unable to breathe. His limbs were on fire, his body was on fire, and his mind was on fire. 

The Force felt so far away now—all that was left was the darkness burning itself into him.

Then, he felt it.

The Force was shifting…away? It didn’t make sense. It had always been a part of him, for as long as he could remember. Even when there was so much sand around him and nothing made sense, there was this warmth somewhere inside of him. It was intertwined with his identity, with the core of who he was—or rather, who he had been.

The darkness pulled and pulled at the Force within him, and he couldn’t stop it, not when he was burning and dying all at once. He heard himself screaming, but it felt so odd and distant.

Moment by moment, he felt the pull, even as he screamed into the darkness. The pain ricocheted through his mind and body, even as his limbs thrashed mid-air, fighting to draw in a single breath.

The Force felt like a distant memory now. Maybe if he reached for it in the distance, he would feel the echoes of how it felt, but…he couldn’t move.

All he could do was watch it disappear.

He fell, into the darkness, into the nothingness…into despair.

And then, he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you've made it to the end of this chapter! How about that cliffhanger, right? *waggles eyebrows*
> 
> Oh, and fun fact: the memory that Ahsoka has of Obi-Wan is a something I'm trying to write. I couldn't help but hint at it in this chapter :)
> 
> As usual, I'll be aiming to update in 2 to 3 weeks.
> 
> Please leave a comment on your way out! Thanks again!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Surprise, I'm updating super early! It's probably not gonna happen again. The reason I'm doing it this time is because I realized yesterday that I am most likely going to be traveling next weekend, and I have no idea if I will be able to update then. So then I figured I can speed-write this chapter to get it posted ASAP. My life is going to get a lot busier very soon, so I doubt I'll be able to write half a chapter in less than 12 hours again.
> 
> Also, there was a bit of confusion after the previous chapter, so let me clarify: Palpatine is not responsible for Obi-Wan's visions. He is, however, extremely observant, an excellent liar, and very good at thinking on his feet. This was going to be clarified in a future chapter, but I thought I should clarify outside of the fic, too.
> 
> Okay, I have more to say, but I'll let you get to reading! This chapter is A Lot, so buckle up and enjoy! :)

The Council Chambers were quiet.

Ahsoka had never seen anything quite like it, if she was being honest with herself. Nearly half of the Council chairs were empty, which was even more worrying. She knew that a few of the Councilors had left the Temple for Palpatine’s investigation, but…

They had run out of time.

In front of her, Master Windu leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. His eyes were half-lidded with the same sort of exhaustion Ahsoka felt in the heaviness of her limbs.

“Skywalker is gone, then,” he murmured.

Ahsoka nodded in response, thinking back to her last conversation with her Master. Anakin had been _off_ , as though he was dazed, not completely there. Ahsoka had wanted to pull him away from Palpatine—from _Sidious_ —but she couldn’t, not without confirming to the Sith Lord that the Jedi knew his true identity.

She had no choice but to watch her Master be taken away, and now…

She could still sense him, but his presence felt muffled and far away, almost like a distant memory, which was more than what she could say for Master Obi-Wan, whose presence had pretty much dissolved into the Force like a fine mist.

Master Plo shifted in his seat, brows furrowed together. “I have received confirmation that the Chancellor’s speeder has left the visitors’ hangar three minutes ago,” he announced, gesturing towards his commlink.

Ahsoka swallowed, looking up at the ceiling.

This was too much— _way_ too much. Less than a week ago, Obi-Wan was awake, Anakin was _here_ , and Ahsoka’s life was normal. Everything made a lot more sense back then.

She didn’t realize how quickly and easily she could lose so much.

“Perhaps we should consider visiting the Chancellor now,” Master Billaba said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And tell him what? That we know he has Skywalker?” Master Windu asked, turning towards his former padawan. “We do not have the evidence to convict him in the Senate. If we try to arrest him, it will backfire—badly.”

“Then what do we do?” Master Billaba challenged, eyebrows drawing into a deep frown. She gestured towards Ahsoka, eyes bright. “This Padawan is on the verge of losing her Master _and_ her Grandmaster. There are many more Padawans in this Order who have lost their Masters, whose lineages have broken because of this Force-damned war. Because of _Sidious_.”

Silence echoed in the chamber, and Ahsoka felt as though she could almost feel the Force holding its breath, almost in waiting. There was also this feeling of unsteadiness, almost like a creeping silence echoing somewhere in her mind.

Master Windu’s eyes closed. “We must prepare for the attack,” he replied, voice hollow. Ahsoka felt as though she was watching something intensely private, like she was seeing the man behind Master Windu’s usual demeanor. “We need to close down all entrances to the Temple, make sure there are no troopers already inside.”

“What about Anakin?” Ahsoka asked, but her voice felt distant, as though she wasn’t the one actually speaking right now. There was this odd ringing in her montrals, pulling her slowly away from the conversation, away from all of this.

“If we avoid confrontation with the Sith, many more Jedi will die, Master,” Master Billaba insisted.

“I know,” Master Windu murmured, voice echoing with a strange heaviness. It didn’t make sense; Ahsoka had never heard any voices echo like that in the Council Chambers, but for some reason, it sounded like she was in a cave or tunnel. 

The rest of Master Windu’s words were drowned out by a dull roar crashing over Ahsoka’s senses. She was swept away from the Council Chambers, away from the confusion and disagreement, to pain unlike anything she had ever experienced.

There was darkness, and something crushing through her body, squeezing around her lungs, making each breath feel so difficult, so far away.

Dimly, she heard herself gasp and fall to her knees onto a cold stone floor. There were voices, far away, and then a warm hand on her shoulder, but she could barely feel it.

Pain ripped through her mind just then, and she realized it wasn’t her own pain that she was feeling—it was Anakin’s. He was screaming, through their bond into the Force, his cries desperate and horrible all at once.

 _“Master!”_ she shouted, both aloud and into the Force, reaching out towards him as desperately as she could, but there was…something in the way, pulling Anakin out of reach.

Anakin screamed again, and she screamed back, unable to stop herself.

“Ahsoka, can—”

Anakin was moving away in her mind, which made no sense. That wasn’t possible; that shouldn’t _be_ possible.

Then there was this horrible feeling ripping itself through her mind, as though something was breaking. Ahsoka heard herself cry out in horrified shock, feeling an arm wrap around her shoulders and a hand pressing itself to her forehead.

It happened then—the last thing Ahsoka expected to happen, even after everything.

The bond she had with Anakin ripped itself free so suddenly that her mind recoiled in shock before new pain screamed into her mind as the broken end of the bond bled into her senses. The shock brought her back to the Council chambers, where she was collapsed on the floor, held up by a stunned Master Plo.

“Ahsoka, can you hear me?” he asked, shifting her carefully in his arms so that she could see the worried pull of his brow.

She looked around, taking in the sight of the other Councilors standing around her, each of them wearing an expression of deep concern.

“I—” she began, voice cracking. “My bond with my Master—it’s gone. Broken.” Tears sprung into her eyes, and she shuddered, feeling Plo’s arms pull her into a careful hug. Her head fell onto his shoulder with a desperate cry.

A few seconds passed, and then the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.

_Obi-Wan._

Anakin had a bond with him, too. She didn’t know if Obi-Wan could have somehow felt it, but if he did, and if he felt the same things _she_ did, then…

The next thing she knew, Ahsoka was scrambling to her feet, ignoring the intense wave of dizziness that came with the movement. She barely heard Master Plo telling her to wait, but her heart was racing already as she sprinted out of the chamber.

It was almost a cruel echo of her run to the Halls of Healing, less than an hour ago. The Temple’s corridors flew past her, and her mind burned with pain as the broken bond bled, an open wound in the Force.

As she got closer and closer, she heard the echo of the monitors ringing, but it was…different. Something was different.

When she finally arrived in Obi-Wan’s room, she was greeted with the sight of Dooku standing over Obi-Wan, both hands pressed firmly on Obi-Wan’s shoulders as he shook and trembled on the bed. Bant was standing on the other side, struggling to fit an oxygen mask over Obi-Wan’s face.

The Force whispered as Ahsoka stepped closer, urging her on and on. With each step, the whispers cleared, giving way to song. Obi-Wan’s head turned towards her, and his eyes narrowed, focusing on her.

Ahsoka’s heart stuttered in her chest, her breath freezing in her lungs.

_What?_

Obi-Wan’s shoulders moved rapidly, his eyes fluttering as he sank back against the headboard.

The monitors stopped ringing and Obi-Wan sighed, the sound of it muffled by the oxygen mask. He blinked a few times, looking up at Dooku and Bant before turning to Ahsoka again.

“Obi-Wan?” Bant whispered, voice trembling. She knelt down next to the bed, placing both hands on his arm.

Ahsoka felt her feet move until she stood next to Bant, watching as her Grandmaster blinked and breathed slowly, his breaths heavy and labored.

“Bant,” he rasped weakly, and his eyes shifted to meet Dooku’s. “Master—Dooku.”

Dooku’s lips pressed together, his expression softening into something Ahsoka had never seen before. For a moment, she felt as though she was intruding on something private, some sort of conversation that Obi-Wan and Dooku needed to have.

But something told her that there wouldn’t be time for that now.

Obi-Wan’s eyelids shuttered as his head turned towards her again. His eyes were clouding over again, losing focus. Ahsoka’s throat tightened, as though if she opened her mouth, she would just lose her composure completely.

She thought—she never thought that this would happen.

“Ahsoka…” Obi-Wan’s slurred voice pulled her away from her thoughts. He blinked and sighed, shoulders trembling from the exertion. “I’m…sorry.”

“What?” she whispered, voice shaking. “No, Master, you’ve done so much; it’s going to be alright, we just—”

“Anakin’s gone.” The words were a quiet, muffled exhale, barely discernible over the thrumming of the machines around them.

Before Ahsoka could respond, Obi-Wan’s head lolled forwards as his eyes snapped shut. 

Bant let out a worried sound, her hands quickly grabbing at Obi-Wan’s shoulders before he slumped out of the bed. Ahsoka stepped forward numbly, helping Bant lie him down on his back and pulling the blanket up to his shoulders.

The healer sighed softly, brows furrowing. “I’m not entirely sure what just happened,” she admitted, “and I’m worried about him.”

Ahsoka felt her own worry climbing up her throat, a painful lump that she couldn’t quite swallow down.

Even in unconsciousness, Obi-Wan’s face was twisted into a grimace, and Ahsoka could still not sense him in the Force. He seemed to struggle for each breath, his neck arching upwards in a desperate attempt to breathe in more air.

Ahsoka was so confused—more confused than before.

Was this an improvement, or simply a moment of pause before everything would finally fall apart?

Obi-Wan had woken up, after all. She should be happy; she should be feeling hope, a light forming in the darkness that had quickly taken over her life. She’d remembered thinking earlier that Obi-Wan would know what to do, and now…he could make things right.

But that wouldn’t explain the dread curling itself into her stomach, or the coldness she felt in the Force. That wouldn’t explain the horrible feeling she had, that she was about to lose so much and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Me too,” she echoed, watching as Dooku’s eyebrows narrowed ever so slightly. “Me too.”

* * *

The barracks were silent.

Shifting uncomfortably on his seat, Rex glanced at Cody, who frowned deeply as he scrolled through his datapad. In the dim light, Cody’s face was pale, his scar flickering slightly as he moved.

If he was being honest with himself, Rex was terrified—not just of what was happening to Cody, but of everything that was happening, in general.

An hour ago, Commander Tano sent him a message about the inhibitor chips, about the control chips that would override every single clone’s personality and force them into some sort of programmed mental state that would kill Jedi.

Now, he and Cody were struggling to find a solution, and they were coming up short on ideas.

Kix sat across from them, frowning as he read from Cody’s datapad.

“If we can get to a medbay, I can get a scan of these chips and see what we’re dealing with,” he said, voice uncertain. “Then maybe I can operate? Or we can try to grab a medical droid, those droids are always better with brain surgery.”

Cody shook his head. “Where would we go? We can’t get into a civvy hospital, and we definitely shouldn’t go into the Temple, not with these ticking time bombs in our heads,” he exclaimed, gesturing towards his skull.

Rex sighed.

“We shouldn’t leave the barracks,” he said softly, though a part of him knew that he couldn’t just refuse to follow the orders on the chips, once they would be activated. “We’ve already barricaded the doors to the baracks and locked ourselves in—”

“It would just buy us time, but eventually we would get out, Rex,” Cody ground out, slamming his hand on the table with a groan. “Then we’ll go to the Temple and—”

“What _else_ can we do?” Rex exclaimed, cold frustration welling deep in his gut, causing him to shiver.

Kix’s lips pressed tightly together, the conflict clearly written on his face. The medic was just as baffled and confused as Rex and Cody, and seeing that made things worse. A part of Rex thought—hoped, really—that Kix would miraculously know of some way to deactivate all of the chips at once, to stop what was coming from happening at all.

But now, reality settled in.

Even if Kix did know how to remove the chips or deactivate them, he was only one man, and there were well over a million clones, a large number of them housed right here in these barracks, primed to attack the Temple when the time would come.

And without access to the right resources, Kix couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening.

 _None_ of them could do anything.

“We just have to hope,” Rex murmured. “Maybe the Jedi will find a solution, or the Kaminoans will tell them about a way to just turn off all of our chips, or—”

Cody gave him a sharp, withering look.

“Hope?” he asked, voice grating painfully in his throat. “We can lock down these barracks as much as we can, maybe even knock ourselves out from leftover stims, but what’s the point? In the end, we’ll just wake up and follow orders, won’t we?”

“But if we buy the Jedi time, they can—”

“There’s no _time_!” Cody shouted, eyes narrowed. “Right now, General Kenobi is dying. Maybe he’s already dead; Commander Tano didn’t say anything about that, did she? And _your_ General is MIA, taken by the enemy. It’s only a matter of time until…until it happens, and then—”

Cody choked on his own words as tears spilled out of his eyes. His shoulders trembled as he breathed harshly and loudly.

“Commander?” Kix asked gently, leaning over to place a hand on Cody’s shoulder.

Cody didn’t reply except to let out a frustrated shout, slamming his hand on the table next to Rex, who jumped at the suddenness of the motion. Then, he deflated, letting his head fall into his other hand.

Rex found himself stunned to see his friend like this. He had known Cody since the very beginning, since Kamino. They were batchmates—sometimes, he felt as though he knew Cody better than he knew himself.

And throughout all of that time, through everything that they had experienced, Cody was calm, certain, and sure. He was always leaps and bounds ahead of Rex, rising up in the ranks of the Third Systems army and the GAR.

Rex had seen Cody face down nearly impossible enemies—from lightsaber-wielding, power-hungry Separatists, to leading his men to overtake legions of battle droids, even when the odds were completely stacked against him.

And through it all, Rex had always thought that Cody would never falter, not even once.

He was wrong.

If this was what it was like to witness Cody breaking and falling apart, Rex didn’t want to see any more of it, especially in the little time they had left to be themselves.

“Cody?” His voice was a quiet croak, but Cody heard him clearly enough. “Vod, I’m sorry.”

Cody nodded, pulling his hand away from his face with a quiet sigh. Rex saw the tears trailing down his cheeks, the frustration remaining in the tightness of his jaw.

“Me too,” Cody replied, and he reached for Kix with one hand and Rex with the other. “And no matter what happens, we’ll always be brothers. Until the end.”

Tears slipped out of Rex’s eyes, down his own cheeks, but he made to attempt to wipe them away. Instead, he reached over with his free hand to grab onto Kix’s, desperate for the warmth and stability of another brother.

“Until the end,” he echoed.

The three of them sat there for a few minutes in mournful silence, until Cody’s commlink beeped. Cody shifted back, opening up the commlink in the palm of his hand between the three of them.

A blue hologram of a small, cloaked figure appeared on Cody’s palm, and at the sight of that very figure, everything faded away into a dull grey.

CT-7567 blinked to attention and saluted, ready to follow orders, no matter what.

* * *

Not long after Padawan Tano stumbled out of the Council Chambers, the room went into an uproar, even though there were only seven Councilors present.

If he was being honest with himself, Mace was at a loss for words. The Force was muffled and so fragile, as though with every breath he took, Mace would see more and more shatterpoints forming around him.

He couldn’t make sense of any of it, especially with how quickly everything was falling apart.

“Even if we do not have the evidence to convict Palpatine, we need to buy more time,” Depa was saying, leaning forward in her chair. “He may have allies in the Senate, but we cannot just sit here and let him win, Masters.”

Mace looked up, taking in the sight of the six other Councilors sitting around him, each of them physically and emotionally drained from everything that had happened over the last few days. Next to him, Master Yoda bowed his head, his Force presence emanating a quiet despondency that made Mace’s own heart ache.

But something in the Force shifted, and Mace knew what he had to say—what had to be done, not just for the Jedi, but for the Republic and the galaxy at large.

“I agree,” he said, nodding at Depa. “We cannot afford to waste any more time. A few of us can go to the Senate Building right away, while the rest must remain to protect the Temple and prepare for lockdown.”

The Temple had never been completely locked down, not since its construction during the time of the Old Republic, thousands of years ago. The gravity of what was happening right now was very quickly settling in Mace’s mind, a cold realization.

“Agree, I do,” Master Yoda said, voice quiet. “Remain with the Temple, I will. Stay with the younglings, I must.”

With his declaration, it did not take long for the seven of them to decide that Mace would meet with the Chancellor along with Depa, Master Mundi, and Master Fisto. The remaining three—Master Yoda, Master Plo, and Master Gallia—would lock down the Temple and stop any clones that would surely try to enter once the chips were activated.

“It is decided, then?” Master Fisto asked, looking around the room with concern shining in his eyes.

Quiet, mutual agreement rang into the Force, and together, the Councilors stood. Mace watched as they walked out, one by one, until he stood alone with Yoda, who looked up at him with quiet despondency.

The cold realization crashed into him at just that moment, dragging a shiver up his spine. Mace clenched his teeth together, refusing to let the horrible discomfort show in his face.

Their plan would not work, not without some sort of a miracle. And Mace Windu, for all the suffering he had witnessed and experienced through the course of this war, was not one to believe in miracles.

A warm hand pressed itself on his calf, drawing Mace away from his thoughts. As he looked back at Master Yoda, the ancient Master blinked slowly.

“Take my former Padawan with you, you should,” Yoda said softly, voice hoarse.

“Dooku?” Mace asked, frowning. “How do we know that he won’t turn against us when we need him the most?”

Yoda’s eyes shuttered as he looked away, revealing more conflict than Mace had ever seen from him. The sight of it now was disconcerting, especially when Mace knew just how steady and certain Master Yoda had always been.

“Know that, we do not,” Master Yoda replied, “but know _him_ , you do, hmm?”

Then he turned and walked away, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick, presumably to initiate the Temple’s lockdown procedure.

Alone in the Chamber, Mace sighed. The room was darkening slightly with the setting of the sun, casting the chairs into longer shadows that striped heavily across the floor. He pulled out his commlink, beginning to type a quick message to the remaining Councilors who were still off-planet.

As he typed, he heard the silent cracks of shatterpoints forming in the Force, one by one, sending a sharp spike of pain directly into his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to stay afloat as a wave of darkness crashed against him, almost without warning.

Mace’s teeth clashed together awkwardly as he pressed back against the wave, driving the light— _his_ Light—forward, in a desperate attempt to find the source of the sudden surge of darkness. The darkness resisted, as it always did.

Then, a single scream that echoed into the Force, sending ice into Mace’s veins.

_What is happening?_

A warning. Most likely, it had to do with Skywalker, considering he was the Chosen One. Perhaps it was too late—maybe all that was left of Skywalker was a shadow, a wraith of darkness.

Maybe all that was left was Vader.

With trembling fingers, he sent the messages and put his commlink away. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe.

He needed to move now, before it was too late. He would need to meet Depa, Master Mundi, and Master Fisto in the hangar and move out to the Senate Building to stop the Chancellor. They couldn’t afford to lose any more time, mostly because there _was_ no time left.

They had already lost so much time, as it was.

Taking another breath, he walked towards the chamber’s exit, and with the press of a button, the great doors were sliding open.

He stopped just at the entrance, taking in the sight before him. His mouth went dry.

Before him stood a single cloaked figure staring at him from the center of the atrium, resonating a sort of darkness Mace had never encountered before, not even from Dooku or Sidious. It was cold, almost shockingly painful.

This was…different.

The figure’s head lifted, and beneath the heavy cloak, Mace saw death. Empty black sockets bored into his skull as a pale face came into view, dried blood streaked onto its cheeks, almost a cruel mimicry of bloodied tears.

There was a sense of _wrongness_ emanating from the figure in the Force. It was as though the creature didn’t belong, that the Force itself fought to reject it from view, but the creature was simply too strong to be waved away.

The figure took a single step forward, and Mace felt the Force thundering in his ears, screaming at the wrongness.

Mace’s hands shook as he reached for his saber and ignited it, letting its purple glow fill the darkness that filled the atrium. It was a small comfort, something that he knew would have to guide him in this battle with a mysterious enemy.

The figure’s mouth twisted into a horrible smile, its teeth cracked and chipped, before it drew its own blade.

Red light filled the atrium with a cool _hiss_.

Mace lifted his blade, but then he heard another lightsaber ignite from somewhere behind him. He spun around and lifted his lightsaber, blocking a blow from a red lightsaber arching towards his chest. He pushed back heavily, heart stuttering in his chest at the sight before him.

It was another figure—similar to the one that stood behind him now.

There were two of them?

Mace turned slowly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, realizing that he was horribly, horribly wrong.

As he turned back slowly, more and more red lightsabers ignited. He shrank back against the nearest wall as he counted six of the same cloaked figures, each figure having empty sockets as eyes and a red lightsaber and the horrible wrongness that screamed and screamed into the Force.

The surge of darkness he felt earlier…it wasn’t coming from Skywalker, like he’d previously thought. That much was obvious now.

But this made no sense; why would…why would the six of them corner him here? And _how_?

The realization crashed into him then, just as one of the figures leapt towards him, and Mace barely managed to block the blow, settling himself into a deadly dance for survival.

It wasn’t just him facing these creatures—it _couldn’t_ just be him.

The Temple must be under attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end of this chapter! I love me some cliffhangers :)
> 
> I posted a mini-prequel to this fic, by the way! It's a little scene where Cody finds Obi-Wan having a vision. You can read it here: [Grounded in Reality](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902616).
> 
> I'm really glad people are excited about the Obi-Wan and Ahsoka fic I hinted at in the last chapter! I'm still writing it. It's gonna take me a bit longer because I'm focusing primarily on this fic and writing that one on the side. But I will definitely let you know when that fic has been posted.
> 
> Okay, so part of the reason I posted this chapter early is also because I'm starting part-time graduate school in two weeks, along with already working a full-time job. I will do my best to maintain my writing schedule, but obviously if school takes over, I will have to prioritize school and work over writing. With that being said, I would really like to get another chapter in before my class starts, but I can't promise that it's going to happen.
> 
> As always, thank you so so so much for the support on this fic! We're coming close-ish to the end, and I really hope you guys like what I have planned :)
> 
> Thanks again!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Remember last week, when I said that I wouldn't update in a week (or less) again? Yeah, Past-Me didn't know what she was talking about xD It turns out I'm really excited about being in this part of the story and it's just a lot of fun to write :) Even though I should probably wait a bit, I'm too excited. So here you go.
> 
> Since we are where we are in this story, I have to say that things are gonna get _really_ intense. You're gonna see a lot more violence and blood, starting from this chapter, so please prepare yourself before reading. I'll include chapter warnings here, but please let me know if I've missed anything (after you read the chapter, of course)!
> 
> Enjoy! :)
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: blood, minor character death, graphic depictions of character receiving severe injury

Not long after Obi-Wan dropped back into unconsciousness, Dooku walked out of the room, claiming that he couldn’t just sit and wait for something to happen, that he needed to _do_ something himself, now that it seemed like everything was about to fall apart.

Ahsoka understood that—she could barely stand sitting here as well, watching her Grandmaster’s condition rapidly decline. It made her feel helpless, defeated.

She watched numbly as Bant frowned and tapped at Obi-Wan’s shoulder, in hopes of waking him up again. Ahsoka held her breath, waiting for some sort of response, something to tell her that seeing Obi-Wan awake and talking before wasn’t some sort of a trick.

She was beginning to think it _was_ a trick.

Obi-Wan’s breaths, shallow and uneven, echoed into the oxygen mask that Bant put over his face as he struggled to breathe, his face twisted into a grimace. A part of Ahsoka couldn’t help but think that maybe things were better before, when it seemed like he wasn’t in pain or anything, but just that he was asleep.

Now, it just seemed like everything was on display, and it was just too much to see Obi-Wan suffering like this. It hurt to see it, in a way that Ahsoka never really thought it would.

Sitting at the other side of the bed, Bant looked exhausted. Her eyes were closed, in what Ahsoka assumed was meditation, but it didn’t seem like the meditation was productive, especially with how the Force swelled with pain and loss and darkness.

A part of her ached to leave, to run and find Anakin, to do _something_ to make things right.

But Ahsoka knew the truth: Anakin was too far away now, well beyond her reach. And she had to assume that the Temple was going to be locked down completely, to stop the clones from entering when their chips would be activated.

She hoped that the lockdown wouldn’t last too long—that somehow, Order 66 would be stopped. It had to be illegal, right? The Senate wouldn’t allow for this to happen. There would be uproar, enough debate to delay the inevitable—

Ahsoka blinked.

The _Senate_.

It was so obvious. Why didn’t she think of it earlier?

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered, unsure if Bant heard her. After waiting a few moments, she moved to the corner of the room, pulling out her commlink. It took her a few seconds to dial the frequency, and then she waited again, hoping for a response.

_“Senator Amidala here.”_

“Padmé!” Ahsoka exclaimed, keeping her voice a quiet whisper. She didn’t want to disturb Bant, regardless of whether she was actually meditating or not.

 _“Ahsoka?”_ The Senator sounded stunned. _“Oh my goodness, it’s been so long! I’ve been trying to reach Anakin, but with everything that’s happened, he must be too overwhelmed to check his comm. How are you doing?”_

Ahsoka blinked, turning around to lean back against the wall so she could see Bant and Obi-Wan. It now looked like Bant was stirring slightly, slowly pulling herself out of her meditation, but Ahsoka couldn’t tell for sure.

“It’s been difficult,” she replied, “but I’m alright.”

 _“I heard about Master Kenobi; I’m so sorry,”_ Padmé continued, voice crackling slightly. _“How is he?”_

For all that she wanted to tell the Senator that Obi-Wan had woken up, Ahsoka knew that it was likely that the Chancellor had ears everywhere, and the line was nowhere near secure. She couldn’t really say anything.

“Not good,” she croaked, and a part of her knew that it wasn’t a lie, not completely. “I…how did you find out what happened?”

A sigh filtered out of her commlink, which caused Bant to shift in her chair, opening her eyes slowly. Ahsoka gave her a sheepish smile, and Bant nodded in response.

 _“Ahsoka,”_ Padmé replied, and there was a hint of urgency in her voice, something that caused something in Ahsoka’s stomach to twist. _“Since the three of you have pulled out of the war effort permanently, there’s been a lot of debate in the Senate about the Jedi.”_

“Debate?” Ahsoka pressed, still whispering. She saw Bant frown and tilt her head, feeling the same confusion that Ahsoka felt. “What kind of debate?”

_“A lot of the Senators question whether the Jedi have some sort of ulterior motive to benefit the Order, instead of the Republic as a whole.”_

Ahsoka’s mouth fell open, and Bant, who was now actively listening to the conversation, raised her brows in shock. “What?”

 _“I’ve been trying to tell them that’s ridiculous, but…well, you know how it is in the Senate,”_ Padmé sighed, voice trembling slightly. _“There’s only really a few of us that are supporting the Jedi, and, well…it’s bad, Ahsoka.”_

Ahsoka closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall.

This…was not what she was hoping for. She was hoping that the Jedi would have enough support in the Senate, but hearing Padmé’s words made her realize the true extent of the Sith’s influence.

Now that she thought about it, she didn’t really know why she thought the Jedi would have support in the Senate. Palpatine was the Chancellor, after all—he probably had most of the Senate under his control.

 _“Ahsoka?”_ Padmé asked, voice crackling slightly. _“What is this about?”_

Ahsoka wanted nothing more than to tell Padmé everything right then and there. She wanted to tell her about Anakin, the Sith Master, and the clones; she wanted to tell her about the Sith’s genocidal intentions towards the Jedi Order.

She wanted to tell Padmé that she knew she was married to Anakin—that she knew that Anakin had darkness in his past, but the Jedi would help him find his way again. She wanted to say that Anakin had been taken by Sidious and now her bond with him was broken, and he was nowhere to be found.

She wanted to say that even though Obi-Wan had woken up a few minutes ago, it didn’t seem like he was getting better.

Ahsoka wanted to say that she was scared—of losing everyone she ever cared about, of the destruction the Sith would spread throughout the galaxy, and of the Force plunging itself into darkness with the fall of the Jedi and the rise of the Sith.

“It’s just been a crazy week, Senator,” Ahsoka replied, swallowing down the tightness in her throat. “I…they’re my family. So when someone in my family is…”

Shaking her head, Ahsoka bit her lip, unable to continue. She couldn’t do this—it was just _too_ much.

Padmé seemed to pick up on that. _“I understand, Ahsoka. May the Force be with you.”_

Ahsoka nodded as tears formed in her eyes, threatening to spill onto her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she managed before clicking the commlink off. Ahsoka sighed and began to walk back to her seat, where Bant was frowning at her datapad.

She thought Bant would say something about what Ahsoka had just said to Padmé, but the Healer was quiet, even when Ahsoka sat down.

The Force shifted, and darkness unlike anything Ahsoka had ever felt before surged against her shields. Bant’s head lifted up to meet her eyes directly, just as Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open with a hoarse gasp.

“Master?”

Ahsoka’s heart clenched as she moved her chair closer, realizing that Obi-Wan’s eyes were dazed and unfocused. Bant’s brows furrowed as she placed a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, in what Ahsoka assumed was an attempt to get his attention.

“Obi-Wan?” Bant asked, voice urgent. She shook his shoulder gently. “Can you hear me?”

In response, Obi-Wan opened his mouth, and a horrible choking sound escaped him. His hands flew up to his throat as his body jerked, his neck arching back against the pillow.

Bant cursed, jumping up to her feet in the blink of an eye.

“Ahsoka—the trash receptacle!” she cried, gesturing to the counter behind Ahsoka. Ahsoka spun around and grabbed it, watching with horrified eyes as Bant ripped the oxygen mask off of Obi-Wan’s face and grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him roughly into a seated position.

With another smooth motion, Bant pulled the receptacle out of Ahsoka’s hands and jabbed it under Obi-Wan’s chin just as he vomited into it. Bant sat herself next to him on the bed, keeping her arm in place, while Ahsoka watched, stunned.

After a few moments, Obi-Wan sank back into Bant’s arm, shivering and wheezing. Ahsoka’s eyes widened as she recoiled, taking a horrified step back.

There was dark blood dripping out of his nose and mouth, sliding off his face onto the collar of his shirt. Ahsoka was familiar with blood, of course she was, but something about this—maybe the fact that it was someone she looked up to and cared about—made it feel a whole lot worse than before.

“Obi-Wan, can you hear me?” Bant asked again, quickly pressing a piece of cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding.

Obi-Wan groaned, bowing his head forward. Ahsoka found herself moving forward again, slowly sitting on the bed in front of Obi-Wan, heart racing in her chest.

“Master?” she tried, reaching for his hand and suppressing a flinch from the almost unnatural coldness she felt emanating from him. “It’s Ahsoka.”

Bant shifted, reaching for the oxygen mask and pressing it to Obi-Wan’s face again. Obi-Wan’s eyes closed as he slumped against Bant, still shivering.

“No,” he muttered, so quietly that Ahsoka almost didn’t hear him, even though she was sitting right in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed as the darkness surged in the Force, stronger than before. “Don’t.”

Obi-Wan’s hand tightened with surprising strength in her grip as he curled forward, blood dripping directly onto the inner part of the mask. His chest heaved, and the machines around them began to beep urgently.

“Obi-Wan, you need to breathe deeply,” Bant said, voice quiet and firm. “Can you do that for me?”

The Force shuddered a warning before Bant was pulling the mask away and shoving the trash receptacle under Obi-Wan’s mouth. Ahsoka’s stomach twisted as he coughed and retched into the bucket, as more blood spilled out of his mouth.

She caught Bant’s confused gaze before it settled into a relative calm, just as the fit seemed to have passed. As Bant pulled the receptacle away again, Obi-Wan shuddered, collapsing back into the arm Bant still had wrapped around his shoulders.

“It’s alright,” Bant murmured softly, though her voice shook with the same worry that Ahsoka felt. The cloth was back on Obi-Wan’s face, carefully wiping the blood away.

Obi-Wan’s mouth worked slowly as he struggled to form words, his eyebrows drawing together.

“They’re—” he rasped, voice hoarse and rough. “They’re _here_.”

“Who?” Ahsoka asked, tilting her head. “The clones? No, the Council’s locking down the Temple, Master. We’ll be fine.”

Well, she didn’t know if they would be _fine_ , but the lockdown should slow things down enough for…something to happen. And, of course, there was the whole matter with Anakin, but Ahsoka knew she couldn’t bring that up right now.

She couldn’t even bear to think about it.

“No,” Obi-Wan muttered, and he groaned, his free hand climbing up to his forehead. “No, no…”

Before Ahsoka could reply or do anything else, something vibrated.

Bant frowned, reaching for her commlink with her left hand and studying it carefully. Then her eyes widened, just as Ahsoka felt her shock pulse into the Force, almost like a spark of electricity.

“No,” Obi-Wan whispered, slumping back against Bant with a pained exhale. Ahsoka felt his fingers loosen in her grasp as his eyes closed. The monitors beeped a quiet warning, but Bant’s attention seemed to be fixed on her commlink, which made Ahsoka’s worry escalate.

“What is it?” Ahsoka asked, voice cracking in her throat. She was sure that the Temple’s doors had been closed already; they should have more time to do something about…all of this.

Bant swallowed. “It’s Master Che,” she said softly, carefully moving her arm back to her side and lying Obi-Wan down on his back. Ahsoka noticed that Bant’s fingers were trembling, in a way that showed just how nervous the Healer really was.

“What about Master Che?” Ahsoka pressed.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed as Ahsoka spoke, and Ahsoka closed her eyes, breathing out slowly.

She needed to remain calm—she _had_ to. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again, waiting for Bant to speak.

“Ahsoka,” Bant said, eyes shining, “there’s—Master Che just sent a signal to lock down the Halls completely, from the rest of the Temple. We would only ever do this if…”

The darkness in the Force surged again, and Ahsoka swallowed.

“If the Temple has been compromised,” Bant finished. “I…I think the Temple is under attack, Ahsoka.”

Against all of Ahsoka’s hopes, it was too late.

The desperate fight for the survival of the Jedi Order had already begun, and she didn’t even realize it.

And now, Ahsoka had no idea what to do. She was completely out of her depth, and there was no Anakin or even Obi-Wan or Plo to guide her through this.

She felt so… _alone_.

“What now?” she croaked, looking up at Bant. She felt the tears slipping out of her eyes, and then she felt Bant reaching over from the other side of the bed, wrapping her arms around Ahsoka’s shoulders.

“We wait and hope,” Bant murmured, voice shaking. “The Force is with us, after all.”

Ahsoka nodded slowly, pressing her head to Bant’s shoulder.

Bant was right—of course she was. There would be another solution, another way through all of this, and they would all make it through.

There was no other choice.

* * *

They came from almost nowhere.

The Council had decided that the Temple would be locked down, to protect the Temple from Order 66, while a few Councilors would confront the Sith Lord. Plo had decided to stay, since he knew that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan would need him, especially with Skywalker gone.

However, he had a few things to do before he could go back to the Halls to help them.

In order to initiate the lockdown procedure, Plo had to inform the Temple Guards and then send instructions for all non-Jedi personnel who worked at the Temple to leave the Temple right away.

With those tasks completed, Plo found Master Billaba, Master Fisto, and Master Mundi gathered near the entrance of one of the hangars, talking quietly to each other.

“Master Plo!” Billaba waved him over, smiling gently. “We’re just waiting for Mace before we head out—have you seen him?” There was a tension in her voice, the same tension that Plo felt gathering in his chest.

Plo frowned. “Not since the meeting, no,” he replied. He knew that Master Windu had decided to stay behind in the Council Chambers to inform the Councilors who were off-planet about the lockdown and to prepare any Jedi outside the Temple for Order 66, but…that shouldn’t take a very long time.

Master Windu should have been back by now.

At that moment, he felt it.

It was a darkness, not the kind he’d felt from Dooku in the past, but something more sinister and unnatural, an evil unlike any other that bled and surged into the Force like an open wound. He suppressed a shiver.

“Did you feel that?” Plo asked his companions, frowning. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but then the Force screamed a warning that spun him around, lightsaber ignited just in time to block the one arching towards his head.

Behind him, he heard the three other Masters’ lightsabers ignite, but he focused on the figure in front of him, shock pouring into his mind.

The red lightsaber he was pushing back was held by a cloaked figure. Up close, Plo could see the pale and skeletal face under the hood, the empty sockets for eyes and the menacing grin that revealed chipped and cracked teeth.

With a grunt, Plo pushed the figure back using the Force, and then he had a moment to breathe, to _see_.

For the wide corridor was completely filled with those hooded figures. Plo couldn’t tell exactly how many of them were out there, but he could see the chaos that they were bringing, as they plowed forward, lightsabers at the ready, already cutting through the Jedi around him.

Plo watched, in the distance, as a recently Knighted Nautolan Jedi struggled to fight back two of those figures at the same time. His heart clenched as a red lightsaber slipped past the Knight’s defenses and shoved itself into her gut.

Swallowing, Plo watched as the Councilors behind him rushed forward, into the fray.

He followed, simply because there was no other choice. He didn’t understand where these creatures were coming from, or even _how_ , but he knew one thing: he would defend his home and his people.

Because he was a Jedi, and because that was what he had sworn to do throughout his life—to protect, always.

Throughout the course of the war, Plo had seen many battles, but never anything like this.

He found himself fighting off two of the creatures at once, just barely managing to keep up, with Master Mundi right behind him. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his mask just barely able to provide him with the air he desperately needed to keep going.

Plo was at a disadvantage, but he would not allow it to overtake him, not when so many people relied on him.

He and Mundi worked as one, pushing off one another. Plo felt the deaths ringing into the Force, and the pain bleeding _everywhere_ , but he knew he had to focus on the battle, on the now.

Finally, he managed to drive his lightsaber deep into the chest of the creature directly in front of him. It stopped, its arms falling to its sides as its lightsaber turned off.

Plo waited for the creature to step back and fall.

It didn’t.

Instead, a low, guttural laugh escaped the creature. Its teeth flashed a grin at Plo, which sent a shiver crawling down his spine, before it stepped back smoothly, lightsaber at the ready once again.

Plo glanced back at Mundi, whose eyes were wide.

“Our lightsabers are useless against them,” Plo murmured. “How is that possible?”

As though unharmed and unaffected, the creature he just stabbed leapt forward again, and Plo blocked its blow, keeping his form tight and defensive.

He looked around, noticing that some of the other hooded creatures were driving the Jedi back towards the hangar’s entrance. As he fought, he looked at the creatures around him, realizing that the creatures that he and Mundi were facing were also driving them back, towards the hangar.

The realization came to him then, a coldness that stunned him instantly. A flash of red grazed his left arm, and he was yanked back by Master Fisto, who had somehow approached them from somewhere on Plo’s right.

“They intend to open the Temple’s doors,” Plo said between heavy breaths, ignoring the horrible burning of his arm. He pressed the injury to his side, using his right hand to continue holding the creatures back.

“The clones,” Fisto said, breathing heavily.

It was so obvious now. While bringing down the Temple from within, the creatures would let the clones in, and destruction would reign. 

With the knowledge of the inhibitor chips and Order 66, the Jedi may have been able to fight the clones off when they marched on the Temple.

But they could not fight a battle on two fronts—not when one of the armies was literally indestructible. They could barely manage with this current situation. If the clones were to come into the Temple now, then…

It would be a slaughter.

“We need to retreat,” Mundi declared from behind him, breathing heavily. “We need to regroup, possibly gather everyone at the Halls.”

It made the most sense—the Halls were close enough to the crèche that the younglings could be moved securely, and moving sick and injured Jedi anywhere else while the Temple was being invaded was impossible.

Plus, the Halls had a defense mechanism that would hopefully buy them enough time.

But that did mean defeat, that the Temple’s walls would be breached by the clones.

It meant…loss, and death.

Plo frowned, watching as Master Billaba pushed back a crowd of the creatures with a heavy Force push, her face twisted into devastating agony. She looked up at them, eyes bright, before she rushed over to help.

“I think Mace is in trouble,” she rasped, chest heaving slightly. There was sweat and exhaustion on her face, but Plo could tell that she wouldn’t slow down any time soon.

None of them would, for the sake of the Jedi.

“We need to retreat to the Halls,” Plo replied. “After we have a chance to regroup with the others, we can search for him. I would assume that he is still in the High Council tower.”

Depa’s eyebrows furrowed as she drove her lightsaber up to block a heavy blow from her left, gritting her teeth.

“We have to hope that not too many of the creatures have made their way up there,” Plo continued. His arm burned pain down his wrist to his shoulder, and he wavered on his feet for a moment.

Luckily, Mundi grabbed at his sleeve, pulling him back upright.

The four of them nodded at each other, and the fight continued.

* * *

It didn’t take very long for Mace to realize that he was fighting a losing battle. The creatures laughed and leered at him as they fought, as though they found this to be some sort of a cruel joke, instead of a battle.

Mace kept himself planted where he was, with his back to the wall. When facing a large number of opponents, he knew he could not afford to leave his back exposed for even a second. That would end quite badly.

He also knew that in addition to being horribly outnumbered, he was also outmatched.

This was not like fighting droids or even Separatists or Sith Lords.

This was… _different_.

A lightsaber jabbed towards his head while another one tried to swipe at his legs. He brought his lightsaber up in time to block the blow towards his head, while jumping over the lightsaber aimed for his legs.

When he landed, he drove his hand forward with a heavy Force push, sending three of the creatures flying back.

In the few minutes that passed since the duel began, Mace was glad to notice that no more of the creatures had entered the atrium. He did use the Force to shut down the door right away, but…

It did mean that he was alone, cut off from the rest of the Temple, and that escape was extremely unlikely.

With three creatures still facing him, Mace ducked, swiftly bringing up his saber in a flash of purple to cut into the flank of the nearest creature. The creature stilled for a moment, its face turned towards Mace with a grin forming on its lips.

Then, it lifted its free hand and pushed Mace’s lightsaber out of its gut, as though it was a piece of plastic that only scratched at its robes.

Mace’s breath stilled in his lungs.

“What?” he whispered, and the Force screeched a warning as one of the creatures he had previously pushed away flew back towards him, lightsaber aimed right for his chest. Mace slid out of the way just in time, bringing up his lightsaber in an odd angle to push the creature away.

He allowed himself this moment to breathe, to quickly center himself.

Mace knew that he needed to get out, _now_. He was tiring rather quickly, and, more than that, he did not know how the rest of the Temple fared. A part of him knew that the Temple must have been overrun by now, that Sidious must have used Skywalker to learn the truth, and he had put a completely different plan into fruition.

That was the only explanation for this.

With a deep breath, Mace allowed himself to slip into the familiar motions of Vaapad. The Force whispered to him as he moved faster, as the Light and Dark converged into one being, one _voice_ that would guide him through.

Mace shifted back and dodged, using his lightsaber as a flash of purple to guard him from the onslaught as the creatures began to strike faster than before.

First and foremost, he was a Jedi. It was the core of who he was, and that knowledge would always be a part of him, no matter what.

His limbs burned and ached as he moved, as he allowed the Force to drive him forward, as he felt the Darkness overwhelming the Light in a way that really, really concerned him.

But he couldn’t focus on that, not now.

Right now, his priority was survival—survival, and escape. He knew that there was no defeating these creatures, not with his lightsaber, at least.

He needed to get out of here.

With a deep breath, Mace flung his hand forward, pushing all of the creatures back with a heavy Force push to his left. Then, he rolled to his right, intent on sprinting towards the nearest window.

He knew that if he jumped, he would land somewhere on one of the gardens at the base of the High Council Tower. It was likely that there were clones already there and that the chips were activated, but he could handle them. He could find a way to re-enter the Temple from the outside.

Mace only realized his mistake as he de-activated his lightsaber and began to sprint towards the window.

One of the creatures he had pushed away earlier still stood by the window, lightsaber at the ready, and Mace was simply moving too fast, the Force guiding him forward and onwards, to stop. He pulled to his left, but it wasn’t enough.

The lightsaber cut deeply into his right thigh, and Mace fell to the floor with a choked gasp, his hand immediately clutching at the wound. There was blood seeping through his fingers, along with the realization that the wound hadn’t cauterized, that he was bleeding out.

A lightsaber hissed from somewhere behind him, and with a deep breath, Mace rolled out of the way as the creature stabbed into the floor, its face turned towards him with a cracked, feral grin.

Pain shot through his right leg as he rolled towards the nearby wall. Carefully, he used the wall to pull himself back up to his feet.

The six creatures stood in front of him, lightsabers ignited, as they walked closer and closer. Mace lifted his lightsaber with his left hand, using his right to press at the wound on his leg, his body shaking from the pain.

His vision swam, the creatures blurring together into a haze of black. His eyes couldn’t focus, not with the blood running through his fingers and the fog that was quickly taking over his mind, making it impossible to think.

Mace’s breath froze in his lungs, and then a bright shock of pain hit him directly in the chest. He couldn’t help it—he screamed.

His body was engulfed in electricity, in what he had to assume was Force lightning. Mace felt himself fall to the floor as his limbs twitched and screamed, as he felt the Force screaming along with him, a cruelty rolling somewhere in his mind.

Then, just as quickly the lightning came, it stopped, leaving Mace panting on the floor, curled up on his side.

He felt the vibration of footsteps as one of the creatures walked up to him, and the quiet, cold laughter that followed. Mace blinked as the atrium blurred around him, as the Force shuddered along with him.

Everything hurt, and he…he had a feeling that he wouldn’t make it out.

_I’m sorry, Depa._

At some point, he had rolled onto his back, staring dazedly up at the ceiling until the creature stopped next to where he had fallen, staring down at him with the black sockets boring down into Mace’s eyes.

Mace blinked, struggling to clear his vision.

A lightsaber ignited, and then he felt something burn through his robes as the lightsaber cut from shoulder to waist, only a graze, but enough for Mace to feel the burn with the smooth, practiced movement. He gasped, and then the lightsaber moved across the other shoulder to the other waist, leaving an X on his torso.

His breaths shuddered with the pain—the sharp pain emanating from the wound in his leg, and the slow and steady burn of his torso, along with the remnants of the lightning.

It was becoming too much—way too much.

The Force felt so far away now. He couldn’t feel it, not with all the darkness pooling around him.

So it provided him with no warning when the lightsaber stabbed into his right shoulder. He heard himself scream, felt his body jerk upwards with shock. Then, a fresh wave of agony crashed into him with the movement, as he moved upwards with the saber still stabbed into his shoulder.

He felt his vision fading away, but there was something keeping him awake, almost as though one of the creatures was somehow forcing him to stay conscious, as much as his body wanted to just shut down from the pain.

Mace barely felt it when the lightsaber disappeared. The pain hadn’t really gone away then. If anything, it increased as air rushed into the hole in his shoulder. Mace heard himself gasp, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals.

As he drifted senselessly in a haze of pain, something shifted. Mace couldn’t tell what it was, not with the fog and the pain and… _everything_. He couldn’t think.

There was an arm wrapping around his back, under his shoulders, and then another one at his knees. He felt himself being lifted off of the floor into the air, the arms holding him carefully. The change in position was a sudden shock to his system—he shuddered.

“Mace?”

Mace groaned, forcing his eyes open. Then, he gasped, shock working its way through his system.

“You…” he gasped, shuddering as pain wrenched itself through his body. “You…did this.”

He heard a sigh from somewhere above him. “I’ve managed to subdue them, but it’s only temporary,” Dooku said, almost conversationally. “We need to get you out of here to your Healers. You’re badly injured.”

Mace struggled to reply, but the darkness chose that moment to overtake his vision, finally robbing him of his consciousness.

With a sigh, he fell into the dark, and the cool darkness greeted him with its arms wide open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end of another chapter! One of my big regrets about this fic so far is the lack of Padmé. Every time I plan a chapter I try to think of a way to bring her in, but I couldn’t find a way to include her in a way that would work with what I had planned for the overall plot. I’m glad I finally managed to do it for this chapter! :) I'm planning to bring her in again, too.
> 
> Also, I've gotta give credit to BBC Merlin's S3E2: The Tears of Uther Pendragon, Part 2 for the concept of undead creatures—however, I'm putting my own creative spin on that idea, so...don't rely on that episode for a complete explanation for what's happening :)
> 
> I'm really surprised about how quickly this chapter came together. I can't guarantee that it'll happen again, so...I'll try to keep it going with the next chapter, but we'll see?
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment on your way out! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As darkness continues to rise, the Jedi try to find each other and search for hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> It's been a while, hasn't it? Part of the reason is because I wrote a fic for the [Obi-Wan Kenobi Gen Exchange](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2020ObiWanKenobiGenExchange) (which should be revealed _very_ soon if that sort of thing interests you *waggles eyebrows*), but also school started so I'm just extra busy now :)
> 
> Either way, here's a chapter!
> 
> Enjoy! :)

The Jedi Temple had never before experienced this level of destruction and chaos, not since its construction thousands of years ago.

Plo’s breaths, heavy and uneven, echoed back into his ears through his mask. It was becoming increasingly clear that the mask simply wasn’t designed for this level of exertion, and he was definitely beginning to feel it.

Letting out a gush of air, Plo spun, pulling up his saber in a quick motion to lob off a creature’s arm. As soon as the severed arm flopped to the ground, the creature jumped back, hissing at Plo.

Then, it released a torrent of Force lightning towards him. Plo only lifted his lightsaber just in time to block the lightning, gritting his teeth as he skidded backwards on the marble floor.

“Any ideas?” Kit huffed from somewhere behind him. Plo could hear the quick motions of his lightsaber humming as it sliced rapidly through the air. He glanced back to see the Nautolan Master standing back to back with Master Mundi, each dueling two of the creatures at once.

The four of them managed to draw back out of the main corridor, backing themselves towards the lift. Earlier, Plo had managed to trap two of the creatures by leading them into a small hallway and bringing the ceiling down over their heads with the Force. However, as soon as he did it, he saw their lightsabers cutting through the rubble.

At that point, he realized that while the creatures were physically indestructible, they could be slowed down or even temporary incapacitated.

Plo glanced back at Depa, who stood directly behind him, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Something…something feels wrong,” she murmured.

“I would guess that it might have to do with the hordes of Sith-like creatures invading the Temple,” Mundi replied, with the sort of dry humor that reminded Plo of Obi-Wan.

And that thought—the reminder that Obi-Wan may already be gone by now—sent cold dread through Plo’s mind. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on that right now, on the very likely possibility that he was already too late.

All he could do was get to the Halls as quickly as possible, and then find a way to make things right.

Depa sighed loudly, glaring sharply at Mundi. “Not funny,” she grunted, voice raspy. “It’s something else; I—”

The creatures surrounding them all flew back in a split-second, landing nearly on the other side of the corridor, over fifteen feet away. Plo’s limbs froze in shock, and he looked around at the others, but none of them appeared to have pushed the creatures away.

And Depa was right—there was something… _different_ , somewhere nearby. Plo couldn’t tell what it was, but there was a hint of familiarity and darkness, along with the sort of pain that would normally take Plo’s breath away.

Then, he heard the footsteps, coming from somewhere on his right. Plo turned as he allowed himself to catch his breath, squinting through the dust to see the lone figure approaching them.

As the dust cleared, he realized it wasn’t one figure—not exactly.

Count Dooku walked slowly towards them, his features set in grim determination. Plo blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the corridor’s destruction, before his eyes fixed directly on the broken body Dooku had cradled to his chest.

Plo’s heart stuttered and froze, and then he felt himself stumbling forwards, his feet nearly tripping over each other in an effort to get closer. His left arm seared with the movement, but Plo pushed the pain into the Force because at this moment, it meant nothing.

“ _No_.”

There were footsteps rushing forward from somewhere behind him, and then Plo watched Depa fly past him, racing towards Dooku. He found himself following, too shocked to formulate words.

Once he was close enough, Plo was able to make out the unconscious and broken form of the Master of the Order in Dooku’s arms. Mace’s robes were charred and burnt, and there was a gruesome-looking hole burnt into his shoulder, scarily close to his heart. He looked dead—in fact, if Plo wasn’t able to detect his presence in the Force, he would have assumed that Dooku was holding nothing more than a body.

This was…this was _too_ much.

Over the past few days, Plo had been forced to come to terms with what had happened to Obi-Wan, but he never thought anything like this would happen to _anyone_ , let alone Mace.

“He needs a Healer,” Dooku said, voice rough, bringing Plo out of his thoughts. In response, Plo’s eyes snapped up, as though he only just remembered that he was there.

“Who did this?” Depa’s voice was a quiet hiss. “ _You_ —those creatures…you let them into the Temple, didn’t you? This is all your fault!”

Dooku’s lips thinned, and the Force shuddered. Mace’s eyebrows creased as his body trembled, and in that exact moment, Plo saw the bloody wound on his leg, along with the lightsaber burns across his torso.

Mace’s injuries were serious, and judging by the uneven rise and fall of his chest, Plo knew he needed to get to a bacta tank before it was too late.

“We do not have time for this,” Dooku said, eyes narrowed. “Those creatures will be back in a minute, and Master Windu needs a Healer, _now_. I can hold them off while you take him to the Ward.”

There was a sort of hesitation flickering in Depa’s eyes, the same hesitation that Plo felt deep in his chest. Behind him, he could sense the uncertainty in Mundi and Kit, echoing his own.

The Force shuddered a warning, and Plo looked behind Dooku, where the creatures were once again approaching them.

“There is no other choice, Depa,” Plo said softly. “Either way, we need to retreat, and if that gives him a chance to survive, we must take it.”

A quiet sigh, then Depa nodded in response, eyes bright.

“This was all an act, wasn’t it? You only pretended to be on our side, to care about your own Grandpadawan, so that you could bring the Order down from the inside. Well, know this, _Sith_ ,” she hissed, stepping forward to take on her former master’s weight, “we will find a way. We always do.”

Dooku’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

Once Mace was settled between Depa and Mundi, Dooku turned to face the creatures. Plo watched as they shuffled away, towards the corridor leading to the lift, Master Fisto following closely behind, but he found himself staying for a moment longer.

“You did not say anything,” Plo heard himself say to Dooku’s back, his voice echoing oddly in the chamber. “Why?”

Dooku didn’t reply, and Plo noticed him shifting his feet into a firm Makashi opening stance.

“I will do what I must,” was the quiet reply. “Now go, Master Koon, before it is too late.”

Plo nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered, and he turned around and hurried after the other Councilors, leaving Dooku to face the creatures alone.

There was no time to waste.

* * *

The room fell silent, except for the sounds of the monitors whirring and beeping around the bed and Obi-Wan breathing raggedly, the sound of it echoed by the mask Bant put back on his face. It was disconcerting to hear, and Ahsoka worried that eventually she’d have to watch the breaths stop entirely.

She just wasn’t ready for it, not at all.

Bant stood up, reaching for Obi-Wan’s shoulders and carefully rolling him onto his side, away from Ahsoka, into what Ahsoka recognized as a recovery position for humans.

Right, because Obi-Wan had been vomiting blood a few minutes ago. Ahsoka swallowed, feeling cold shock climbing up her stomach into her throat, horribly uncomfortable and unsettling all at once.

“Ahsoka?”

Bant’s voice sounded far away, as though she was outside, standing in the hallway for some reason. But then Ahsoka felt cold hands on her upper arms, easing her off the bed and into the chair.

She blinked, and then Bant was kneeling in front of her, eyes wide. Her hands were heavy on her shoulders, almost grounding.

“Ahsoka, can you breathe with me?” Her voice was still coming from somewhere far away, but Ahsoka nodded, and the room spun around her.

It was too much—way too much.

She forced in a breath through her nose, letting her shoulders rise and fall with the movement. The Force shuddered as she breathed, struggling to match Bant’s motions. The sounds around the room certainly didn’t help, but Ahsoka forced herself to block them out, at least while she regained control.

At some point, her eyes closed, and all she heard was Bant’s breaths, along with her own.

Time felt as though it stopped, as though it had frozen itself over this single moment, waiting for Ahsoka’s senses to catch up with her mind—with her _reality_.

When she opened her eyes again, Ahsoka found Bant still standing in front of her, eyes wide in concern. Then, she turned to Obi-Wan, whose features have relaxed ever so slightly in the time Ahsoka had been in meditation. His breaths were still worryingly uneven, but…there was nothing she could do about that.

“Better?” Bant asked, and Ahsoka nodded quickly in response, sinking back into her chair.

Bant sighed, letting her eyes flicker from Ahsoka to Obi-Wan, and then to the door, just behind Ahsoka.

“I’m going to contact Master Che to find out what’s happening,” she said softly, pulling out her commlink.

Ahsoka watched as Bant fiddled with her commlink, quickly punching in a few numbers, only to receive static. Bant’s brows furrowed, and then she tried again, fingers trembling. The static returned, and Ahsoka felt her heart lurch at the sound.

“Comms are down,” Ahsoka realized. “Whoever’s in here must’ve—”

“Yeah,” Bant replied, standing up slowly. “I’ll just find Master Che, then. She must be somewhere around here. I don’t like leaving you alone with Obi-Wan, but—”

“Wait, Master Eerin,” Ahsoka said. “I’ll go and find her. It’s not like I’ll be much help to him right now.”

Bant’s lips pressed together, and Ahsoka felt her conflict just then, along with the same sort of desperation that Ahsoka felt in that moment.

If she was being honest with herself, Ahsoka was using that desperation to act, to drive herself forward. She couldn’t just sit here and watch her Grandmaster die—not like this, not when the Temple was now under attack and Anakin was _gone_.

She needed to do something. Anakin and Obi-Wan wouldn’t want her to sit there and do nothing. They would want her to help.

Bant was hesitating, looking at Obi-Wan with furrowed brows.

“If something happens, you need to be here,” Ahsoka insisted. “And I can’t just sit here and do nothing—I need to help, somehow.”

“Ahsoka, it’s not safe; if the clones manage to get in here—”

“I know!” Ahsoka exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “I’ll be careful, Master Eerin. I won’t even be leaving the Halls—I’m just going to find Master Che and try to get an idea of what’s going on, just like you intended.”

Bant’s eyes closed, and Ahsoka realized that this— _all_ of this—was affecting her more than she had thought. Obi-Wan was Bant’s best friend, after all. Ahsoka had heard him say it before, many times. And more than that, the Jedi Order was on the verge of complete destruction.

“I’ll be careful,” Ahsoka repeated, quieter than before.

Bant exhaled, and then she nodded, dropping back into her chair.

“You know that if anything happens, I won’t be able to reach you, Ahsoka,” Bant said, glancing at Obi-Wan.

Ahsoka sighed. “I’ll be back soon,” she replied, and she turned towards Obi-Wan. “Master Kenobi, I’ll be back, okay? Don’t…”

_Don’t die._

“Just wait for me, okay?” she whispered.

Obi-Wan gave no indication that he heard her, but Ahsoka knew that at this point, she had no choice but to hope that her Grandmaster somehow understood. She had to hope that when she returned, he would still be there.

Sighing, Ahsoka stood up from her chair, turning to look at Bant.

“I’ll be back,” she whispered, and Bant nodded back solemnly.

And then she left, intent on discovering the truth.

* * *

The Halls were a flurry of busy, frenzied activity.

When Vokara received the signal from Master Mundi about the Temple’s infiltration, she knew right away that the Halls had to be sealed away from the rest of the Temple. She had to assume that the clones had finally arrived, that Order 66 had begun, but Mundi’s message did not confirm that.

Despite the confusion, she managed to initiate the Halls’ lockdown procedure before communications went down. A few Temple Guards were standing outside the Halls already as a precaution. Vokara had called a few of them inside to formulate a plan to strengthen the Halls’ defenses.

Standing in front of the admittance desk just by the entrance, Vokara was surrounded by Temple Guards and Healers. The Force was murky, impossible for her to understand.

All she knew was this: the Sith had struck against the Jedi Order, and now, the fight for the survival of her people had begun.

“The Temple’s Lockdown Protocol dictates that we must make contact with the crèche,” one of the Temple Guards was saying, voice deep. “We need to know if the younglings are to be moved to the Halls before we officially lock down.”

“Communications are down,” argued Padawan Vyna, gesturing slightly. “I understand that we need to establish contact in order to confirm that the younglings are safe, but how?”

Vokara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with a thumb and forefinger. “There is only one option,” she murmured, watching as everyone turned to look at her with a mixture of hope and desperation.

“What is it?” Vyna asked, eyes wide.

“Someone needs to go to the crèche and make contact,” Vokara replied. “It cannot be any of the Healers because we must make sure our patients are secure, and it cannot be any of the Guards because the Halls must be guarded, now more than ever.”

Vokara opened her mouth to continue, but she was cut off by an unexpected voice.

“I’ll do it.”

Vokara turned in the direction of the voice, and her heart leapt to her throat. “Ahsoka,” she sighed.

The Padawan’s shoulders were slumped in grief and exhaustion, but her eyes glittered with familiar determination. 

Vokara’s heart clenched at the sight.

_Has something happened? Is Obi-Wan…_

“I’ll do it,” Ahsoka repeated, voice shaking. “I can move quickly by myself, and it’s not like I’m doing much to help by sitting here and doing nothing.”

Ahsoka’s eyes flickered away, towards the ground, and in the Force, Vokara felt desperate confusion clinging to her presence.

Vokara’s brows furrowed before she looked up at the other Healers and the Temple Guards.

“Will you excuse us for a moment?” she asked. “I need to speak to Padawan Tano in private.” She waited until the Guards and the other Healers had moved to the other side of the waiting area, near the front desk, before looking back at Ahsoka.

“Ahsoka,” she said gently, “what happened? You look shaken.”

The Padawan opened her mouth and then closed it as she looked away from Vokara.

“I’m—Master Eerin wanted to know more information about the lockdown, and I told her I’d ask you, because…” Ahsoka swallowed, looking directly at Vokara with bright eyes. “Because Master Kenobi was just vomiting _blood_ , and I can’t just watch him die while all of this is happening, Master Che.”

Vokara bit back a curse. There was no explanation for this—for any of it. It seemed more and more like Obi-Wan did not have much time left. A part of her didn’t want to give up on him so easily, but with Order 66 and the threat to the Jedi, she had to focus on her responsibilities as Chief Healer.

Closing her eyes, Vokara sighed. She couldn’t imagine being in Ahsoka’s position, especially with how quickly everything had fallen apart. It made sense that she wanted to do something to help.

“It may be dangerous, Ahsoka. We don’t know what is happening out there,” Vokara replied, voice gentle.

“I’ll be careful, Master Che,” Ahsoka said. “Just let me do _something_. Please, Master.” Vokara could hear the tremble in her voice, and she could feel the desperation clinging to her Force presence.

Vokara glanced at the crowd of Healers and Guards by the front desk, seeing the tension and worry just in the way they talked to one another. There was no time to debate this further—the longer they waited, the worse this would get.

There were no other options.

“Very well, Padawan,” Vokara said, nodding slowly. Ahsoka gave her what appeared to be a fake smile before she turned to walk towards the exit. “Ahsoka, wait.”

The Padawan turned back to her, brows creased together. “Yes, Master Che?”

“Remember your training,” Vokara said. “Your Master and Grandmaster will not be able to help you; do not be unnecessarily reckless. And come back as quickly as you can, alright?”

Ahsoka nodded. “I will,” she promised. “May the Force be with you, Master Che.”

“And you, Padawan,” Vokara murmured, and with a soft smile, Ahsoka turned and rushed towards the exit, lightsabers at the ready. Vokara watched as she slipped out of the exit, her footsteps quiet and sure.

As soon as Ahsoka disappeared from her line of vision, Vokara turned and walked back to the Healers and Temple Guards waiting for her by the front desk.

“Padawan Tano will make contact with the crèche and return as quickly as possible,” she announced, gesturing towards the door. “In the meantime, we must lock down all entrances to the Halls except for the main entrance. Vyna, can you take care of that?”

Vyna nodded swiftly in response, moving to the terminal behind the front desk.

“We’ll be stationed just outside of the main entrance,” one of the Guards said, gesturing toward the exit. “We ask that a Healer remains in this area at all times, in case there is a need for communication.”

“Understood,” Vokara replied. “I’ll set up a rotation with the other Healers. We must remain in constant contact until—”

“Master!” Vyna’s eyes were wide as she stared at the terminals, hands frozen in mid-motion. “There is some activity outside the west entrance—I think someone needs help.”

Vokara nodded, letting instinct take over. “Ask one of the other Padawans to stay here to advise the Guards, and meet me there,” she replied, already walking towards the corridor that leads to the west side of the Halls. 

“Yes, Master,” Vyna said, moving herself away from the terminal.

With a final nod at the Temple Guards, Vokara rushed into the corridor, picking up an emergency kit as she sprinted towards the Halls’ west entrance.

There was no time to waste.

* * *

The corridor leading to the Halls of Healing was mostly clear of the creatures. Plo suspected it was because the creatures hadn’t gone in that direction yet, probably because right now, they only intended to unlock the Temple’s doors, so that the clones would be let in.

He wouldn’t be surprised if it had already happened, considering how the Force shuddered and screamed in agony with every passing second.

Plo’s arm burned as he walked, a reminder of his mis-step, but he continued walking behind Depa and Mundi, who still held Mace between them, looking over his shoulder every so often.

Mace’s breaths echoed eerily around them, hoarse and uneven. It was clear that he wouldn’t last much longer without the help of a Healer, or even a bacta tank. His presence in the Force was fraught with the sort of pain that took Plo’s breath away.

They needed to hurry, before it was too late.

They had decided to enter the Halls from one of the side entrances, in case they were being followed. But as they got closer, Plo’s heart sank.

The door was closed.

“They must have locked down already,” Plo said. He pulled out his commlink and attempted to send an emergency signal to the Healers, only to receive static.

“Communications must have been shut down,” Kit said, staring at his own commlink. He moved around Depa and Mundi to the door and knocked on it sharply.

“Should we move to one of the other entrances?” Mundi asked, carefully adjusting Mace’s arm on his shoulder to a more comfortable position. “It is possible that the Healers chose to leave one entrance open.”

Depa shook her head. “They must have noticed us by now,” she said firmly. “It is too risky to move. If any of them see us, they may follow us into the Halls. We cannot allow for that to happen.”

Plo nodded in agreement. “We must wait,” he replied. “It should not take long for—”

The ancient door groaned as it slid open, revealing Master Che, staring at them with wide eyes.

“What happened?” the Healer barked as she rushed over to Mace, placing a hand on his shoulder. Mace’s breaths hitched, and Master Che’s jaw tightened as she took in the sight of the hole in Mace’s shoulder, along with the blood and burns. “ _Force_.”

“He needs bacta,” Depa said, voice desperate. From where he stood, Plo saw the tremble of her shoulders, the tension that worry had set into her Force presence.

Master Che nodded, gesturing toward the inside of the Halls. “Follow me,” she ordered. “We’ll get a bacta tank prepped.”

Once they were settled in a private bacta room, Master Che began her assessment. Plo stood next to Depa, who watched in shocked silence. Master Che had asked Kit and Mundi to inform the Temple Guards about what happened, so that the room wouldn’t be too crowded while the Healers worked.

“These aren’t blaster wounds,” Master Che said, gesturing towards the gruesome hole in Mace’s shoulder.

“No,” Plo replied after a long moment. He swallowed, exchanging a glance with Depa. “We have much to discuss, Master Che, once Mace has been settled.”

At some point, Depa had settled herself onto the stool next to Mace’s bed, holding onto his uninjured hand with equal parts tenderness and desperation. Plo found himself standing next to the bed, watching as the Healers quickly administered a sedative after bandaging Mace’s shoulder and leg.

Then, he was carefully lowered into the bacta tank.

“Now, we wait and hope,” Master Che said, looking up at the tank with bright eyes. “It looks like you got him here just in time.”

Depa nodded, slowly tearing her gaze away from the tank. “We need to talk about what happened and come up with a plan, before it’s too late,” she murmured, glancing at Plo.

Plo nodded. “I agree,” he said. “Most of the Council is not here, but…we must gather whoever we can.”

Leaving Mace to be watched closely by a Master Healer, Plo left with Master Che and Depa, intent on formulating a plan.

* * *

Staring out the window at the Jedi Temple from a hidden room attached to the Chancellor’s office, Sidious smiled.

The Force was Dark, and it was beautiful. Sidious hadn’t sensed anything like it in a very long time, not since he used to visit Sith planets during his first forays into the Dark. The darkness he felt then was cold and powerful, and he hoped to use that same power to take the galaxy for himself.

This power—this _darkness_ —was something he had long sought, and finally, it was well within reach.

It wouldn’t take much longer, now that his apprentice was in his grasp.

Turning away from the window, Sidious walked over to the slab where Vader lay, strapped down at the wrists and ankles.

After he stripped Skywalker of his memories and Force ability, the body left behind was nothing more than a blank slate, ready to be filled with darkness and hate. The Jedi were beginning to fall, one by one, and the darkness that came with their eradication was already being siphoned into Vader’s presence.

The ceremony was well under way. It was only a matter of time until it would be completed.

Sidious placed a hand on his apprentice’s cold cheek, letting a finger trace over the scar adorned over Vader’s eye.

With this—his Master’s last gift—everything would fall into place. The Jedi would stumble and fall, and Vader would rise to finish the rest of them off.

And then he, Lord Sidious, would finally be able to take the galaxy for himself.

“Soon, Lord Vader,” he crooned, leaning down to whisper in his apprentice’s ear. “You will be _ready_.”

And in response, Vader’s yellow eyes blinked open, cold and empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, I _love_ this ending. So much.
> 
> Anyways, I'll aim for updating again in 2-3 weeks. If it ends up being any longer than that, I'll update this note to reflect that.
> 
> Thank you, and please leave a comment on your way out! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi search for hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there!
> 
> It's been a while. Sorry about that—I decided to participate in Whumptober this year (if you want to read my Whumptober fics, you can find my masterlist [here](https://pandora15.tumblr.com/post/630781342844682240/whumptober-2020-masterlist)).
> 
> You may notice that this fic is now part of a series! As a part of Whumptober, I wrote a short prequel fic, which I've added as part 2 of the series. I don't think I'll be adding anything more to this series because this story is meant to be a standalone, but…*shrugs* you never know?
> 
> Oh, and here's a quick recap (though I would suggest rereading to refresh your memory), since it's been a hot minute since the last update:
> 
> The Temple is under attack by two different armies—the clones and the mysterious Sith-like creatures. Anakin has been kidnapped by the Chancellor, Mace has been injured, Obi-Wan's condition is dwindling faster and faster, and Ahsoka has left the Halls to search for the younglings.
> 
> Anyways, I'll let you get to reading. Enjoy! :)

Once Mace was stabilized, the Councilors were ushered into an empty office in the Halls of Healing. In contemplative silence, they brought in a few chairs from another room and arranged them in a circle before sitting down, facing each other.

Around him, Depa, Mundi, Kit, and Adi sat completely still. There was a sense of desperation among them, something that Plo felt so deeply, especially now.

The silence was not uncomfortable or oppressive—it was mournful, a rumination over what once was and now was lost. Plo wished, above everything else, that there was more time to reflect, but there was very little time—with every passing moment came more destruction, more _loss_.

The Jedi Order was _losing_. It started with Obi-Wan, seemingly out of nowhere a few weeks ago, and now their numbers were dwindling far too quickly. At this rate, if they did nothing, the Order would be…

Plo exhaled slowly. Across from him, Depa looked up, eyes shining.

“What do we do?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together. “We must…we cannot allow this to go on any longer, Masters.”

“By now, the clones must have infiltrated the Temple’s defenses,” Mundi replied. “Those…creatures intended to let them in. That much is clear.”

The group lapsed into silence. Plo fiddled with the bacta bandage under the sleeve of his robe, adjusting it until it settled more properly over the wound on his left arm.

“Where did they even come from?” Adi asked, frowning. “The attack began _after_ the Council initiated the Temple’s lockdown procedure.”

Plo nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What I don’t understand is how so many of them got into the Temple without detection,” Kit mused.

“There is something almost… _unnatural_ about them, besides the way that they use the Force, such as with the lightning,” Plo murmured, looking around at the rest of the group. “The darkness is noticeable enough, and our lightsabers do not seem to keep them down for long.”

“You cannot kill that which is already dead,” Depa declared, with the sort of certainty that rang into the Force.

The room’s temperature seemed to drop a few degrees with the gravity of her words. The silence turned into one that was more frenzied and intense—if what Depa was saying was true, then…it would change _everything_.

“What you are suggesting is the possibility of an army of undead Sith infiltrating the Temple,” Adi commented, voice quiet. “Is that even possible?”

Plo closed his eyes, sinking back into his seat with an exhausted, heavy sigh.

“We have no choice but to believe that it is,” he said, opening his eyes to look at each of the Councilors around him. “Now, how do we stop this?”

_How do we survive?_

The five of them lapsed into silence once again. Plo found himself wracking his memory for what little he remembered of Sith magic. From what he remembered, the Archives had little to offer on the subject, besides a vague reference to it from the times of the Old Republic.

“There is one assumption that we can make,” Mundi said as he leaned forward in his chair, bringing Plo out of his thoughts. “Something must be… _sustaining_ this, allowing these undead creatures to reign free.”

Depa nodded. “That would make sense. And if there is a way to find the source, then perhaps we can reverse it.” She hummed, scrubbing a hand over her eyes.

“But where would we begin?” Kit asked. “This leads us back to the question of how this is happening in the first place. Once we understand how this happened in the first place, we would know how to stop it.”

Plo nodded slowly. “There is not much time,” he declared. “The crèche is unaccounted for, Master Yoda is missing, and with Mace and Obi-Wan…” He bowed his head.

A mournful silence passed through them. Plo did not know if Obi-Wan still lived. The last time he saw him was before the creatures—before Sidious walked into the Temple and took Skywalker away from them, in plain sight.

And now…

“There is not much time,” Plo repeated. “We cannot sit by and watch this Temple fall.”

_It is our home—our people, our way of life._

In the Force, there was a hum of quiet agreement, a nod passed among them. With that first agreement came another decision: Plo and Depa would stay back in the Halls to monitor the lockdown and research the creatures while Kit and Adi would coordinate the exterior defense. Mundi would lead a small group of Knights and Masters to search for Master Yoda and any other unaccounted Jedi.

The plan was tentative, full of holes and uncertainty, but Plo had to hope that it was enough—that the Force would guide them to survival.

At this point, hope was all that they had left.

Hope—and the Force.

As the conversation was coming to an end, a quiet knock sounded on the door before Master Che walked in, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes were dark, clouded with worry and exhaustion—the same emotions that Plo felt simmering deep in his chest.

“I have gathered all of the Knights and Masters who are able to maintain a perimeter outside the Halls,” she announced, looking at each of the Councilors directly. “With the Guards’ support, it should hopefully increase our defenses.”

Plo nodded in response before standing up, the other Councilors following suit.

“We are grateful for your support, Master Che,” he replied. “Master Billaba and I will remain here in the Ward to coordinate defense efforts. Masters Fisto, Gallia, and Mundi will lead separate groups outside for the perimeter and search.”

The Master Healer nodded. “Understood, Master Koon,” she replied, turning to Plo’s companions. “The Knights and Masters are gathered by the main entrance.”

Adi nodded, eyes shining. “We will meet with them now.” There was quiet determination in her voice— _hope_ that resonated deep along with Plo’s own emotions. As she walked to the room’s exit with Kit and Mundi, Plo felt a coldness, worry forming a pit in his stomach.

“May the Force guide you,” he heard himself say, lifting a hand in a gesture of peace and guidance.

An exchange of nods, and then he was watching the three Masters leave the room. A part of him wondered if this was it—would he see any of them again? Was this the end, or simply a temporary farewell?

Plo did not know.

From where she stood next to him, Depa exhaled.

“I would very much like to sit with Master Windu, even if it’s just for a few minutes,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I feel his pain in the Force, even though he has been stabilized.”

Plo hummed in agreement. “I will join you there in a few minutes—I am just going to stop by to see Obi-Wan and Ahsoka first,” he murmured.

At his words, Master Che’s mouth tightened, and Plo’s heart stuttered deep in his chest.

_No—it can’t be._

He heard Depa’s sharp intake of breath, felt the worry emanating from her presence.

“As far as I’m aware, Obi-Wan is still alive, but I fear that it may not be for much longer,” Master Che explained, voice quiet. Her eyes flicked away for a few moments, and the quick, uncertain moment did nothing to ease the worry Plo felt building in the Force.

Plo’s brows furrowed. “Then why were you…?” His voice caught in his chest as the Master Healer sighed and closed her eyes, quickly scrubbing a hand over her face.

If it wasn’t Obi-Wan that was causing this sort of reaction from Master Che, then…

“Master Che.” His voice trembled as he spoke, a flicker of worry and uncertainty. “Where is Ahsoka?”

* * *

The Temple’s corridors were cold and silent.

Ahsoka’s montrals vibrated quietly as she moved, a sort of tension that grated against her nerves. Her footsteps echoed through the corridor, despite how much she struggled to keep her steps quiet, sending a shiver down her spine.

Everything just felt empty.

Where she normally felt her Masters’ presences easily in her mind was a blur of nothingness. The Force reeked of death and darkness, and the Temple—her _home_ —looked as though it had been consumed by destruction.

Exhaling slowly, Ahsoka walked along the corridor leading out of the Halls to the nearest lift. Once she got into the lift, she would simply have to ride up a few floors to the residential area, which included the crèche.

If she was really quiet and careful, she could do it without the clones seeing her. That would be ideal.

Ahsoka shivered as she walked down the corridor, allowing her shoulders to curl in on herself. The Temple had never felt this cold before. In the past, she’d always felt as though the Temple was teeming with brightness, with vitality.

The Temple was home; it was sacred. But now, it was broken, a former of shadow of what it once was.

Now, she could barely recognize it.

“Where are you, Anakin?” she whispered to herself, stopping to look up at the ceiling. She felt the burn of tears forming behind her eyes, but she shook her head, forcing them back.

She couldn’t afford to waste any time—not when the younglings were unaccounted for.

So she kept walking, one step in front of the other, keeping her mind focused on her surroundings. The Force was too murky for her to even try seeking clarity or comfort.

Ahsoka could only rely on herself at this point.

It felt as though the corridor was empty, which meant that the clones were probably somewhere else in the Temple. But…something still felt off, and Ahsoka couldn’t figure out what it was.

Taking a deep breath, she turned at a corner and stopped.

There were two cloaked figures standing directly in front of the lift, turned towards her. She couldn’t see their faces, but even then, she couldn’t recognize them in the Force. There wasn’t really much of anything to sense from them in the Force.

“Hello?” Ahsoka took a few steps closer. “I don’t think I know you, Masters. I’ve been trying to get to the crèche, since comms have been down.”

Neither of them replied or even moved. Ahsoka frowned, feeling a shiver climb up her spine, cold and intense.

“Are you hurt? I just came from the Halls; they’re closing down the doors. You should hurry if you’re trying to get there,” Ahsoka said. “If you want, I can—”

Two lightsabers ignited simultaneously.

Ahsoka’s mouth went dry as red light flooded the chambers, allowing her to see the faces under the hoods.

“Oh, right,” she muttered, taking a slow step back. This made _no_ sense at all—there were supposed to be clones walking through the Temple, not these weird creatures that she’d never ever seen before.

Ahsoka took another step back, shaking her head.

“So it looks like you’re a bit busy,” she said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just go back to—”

One of the figures leapt towards her, and Ahsoka ignited her shoto quickly enough to block. Cold laughter echoed through the air as the second figure rushed towards her on her right side. Ahsoka jumped back, igniting her lightsaber and putting herself in a defensive stance, sabers angled in front of her.

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this the hard way,” she muttered, glaring at her opponents.

It didn’t take long for Ahsoka to realize that whoever or whatever these people were, they were _good_ with a lightsaber. They also didn’t talk at all, except to laugh at her, almost at random. The laugh was chilling, though—somehow more chilling than the Temple’s corridors.

“So, how’d you guys get here, anyways?” Ahsoka asked, panting slightly. She leaned back, letting the creatures move closer to her.

Then, in a quick motion, she slipped sideways, allowing her lightsaber to lob off a hand. The injured creature let out a screech, while its contemporary rushed towards Ahsoka, lightsaber at the ready.

As she moved backwards, towards the lift, Ahsoka watched as the creature whose arm she cut off knelt down. The severed arm was lifted and shoved back into a voluminous black sleeve, and then…

The creature stood up, as though nothing had happened at all.

“What?” Ahsoka breathed. “You’re not…what _are_ you?”

As expected, the creatures didn’t reply, instead moving closer and closer to her.

Ahsoka glanced back at the lift. She flung her left hand back, towards the button that would activate it. It would take a few seconds before the lift would arrive at this floor and the doors would slide open.

A few seconds was all that she needed.

With a deep breath, she pushed both hands forward, allowing the Force to propel forwards, directly onto the creatures. Both of them flew back, to the opposite side of the alcove, and Ahsoka jumped and drove both of her sabers down into the floor, sliding backwards.

As the lift’s doors slid open, Ahsoka pulled her lightsabers out of the floor before stepping back and allowing the doors to close behind her just in time. Then, frantically, she slammed her hand on the button, sighing in relief as the lift shuddered and moved upwards.

What _were_ those things? Ahsoka leaned back against the wall, brows creasing into a frown.

They were humanoid, clearly trained in the Dark Side, and somehow, they could not be stopped with a lightsaber. A part of her wondered if this was some sort of trick that Darth Sidious had up his sleeve, but then…

How did they even get into the Temple? Did the clones let them in, or—

Ahsoka’s eyes widened as the lift’s doors slid open once again, revealing the residential floors. She gasped, taking a few steps forward.

All around her, on the marble floor of the wide corridor, was destruction. The walls and floor were marred with lightsaber marks and blaster bolts, the statues and architecture were completely mutilated beyond recognition.

It was clear that whatever—or _whoever_ —caused this to happen had long since moved on, but Ahsoka worried that the trail of destruction would lead her directly to the crèche, which meant that…

_No_.

She couldn’t allow herself to believe that—not without proof.

With a deep breath, Ahsoka nodded to herself, moving herself carefully through the destruction, through the heartbreak, into the depths of uncertainty.

* * *

“The younglings—of course,” Master Plo murmured as they turned into the corridor leading to Obi-Wan’s room. He sighed softly, scrubbing a hand over his goggles. “Oh, Ahsoka.”

Vokara nodded in response. “She was insistent,” she replied. “And she said that she couldn’t sit and watch—” She swallowed, unable to say the words out loud. “No child should have to go through what she is experiencing.”

“I understand that, but now she is out there, _alone_ , and with those creatures and the clones…” He hummed and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. “I just worry—not just about the Padawan, but the three of them. We do not even know if Skywalker lives, or…”

Vokara closed her eyes in quiet memory, and said, “Of course. That is perfectly understandable, Master Plo.”

The Kel Dor Master tilted his head in that way that told Vokara that he was smiling, though she could feel the worry and exhaustion emanating from his presence.

She could relate to that.

“Here we are,” she announced as they walked up to the door leading into Obi-Wan’s room. She paused, glancing sideways at Master Plo, who was staring intently at the door as though he was hoping he could somehow see through it.

“Here we are,” he echoed, voice deep.

After two seconds, Vokara turned to face the door once again. Then, in a single, smooth motion, she opened the door and walked in.

The sight that greeted her caused her to freeze mid-step, right in the doorway.

“Master Che, Obi-Wan is—” Bant cut herself off, bowing her head with a quiet cry. Her voice was rough, different from how it normally sounded.

“Bant,” Vokara replied. She heard Master Plo’s footsteps from behind her, followed by the quiet, shocked inhale at the sight before her.

Bant shifted, looking up at her from where she sat next to the bed, eyes wide and desperate. “I don’t—I don’t know what to do.” Her eyes moved away, to the figure lying on the bed, turned away from Vokara.

Vokara nodded in response. Then, she walked closer, placing a gentle hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. As expected, there was no response, and now that she stood close, Vokara could see the drying flakes of blood on his face, stark and gruesome.

“Obi-Wan?” she murmured, forcing her voice to remain steady.

Silence passed through them, and Vokara felt her heart climb up to her throat. Seeing Obi-Wan so still and silent, breathing shallowly into the oxygen mask, along with the blood and the worry in Bant’s eyes, told her just how bad his condition had become.

Vokara closed her eyes and dropped onto the chair next to the bed, bowing her head. She was aware of Master Plo standing behind her, his quiet grief spilling out into the air around them, an echo of her own despair.

“I am so sorry,” she murmured, and she found herself thinking back, remembering when it all began over thirty years ago, when the visions came for the first time.

It had been heartbreaking to watch. At the time, Obi-Wan had been so _young_ , and he’d been seeing horrifying, unspeakable things that had caused him so much pain and grief. Vokara remembered seeing his body quickly deteriorate as time went on, until she had found herself and the other Healers fighting a rapidly losing battle.

And now…

She should have realized that it would eventually happen again, that they should have used the time that Obi-Wan had to understand what had happened in the past.

In truth, they never considered the possibility that the visions would come back.

“I am _so_ sorry,” she repeated.

The room fell silent, save for the quiet beeping of the machines around them and Obi-Wan’s strained breathing, echoing oddly through the oxygen mask. Vokara was aware of Bant sitting across from her, on the other side of the bed, and Master Plo, still standing behind her.

The Force was silent, crying a mournful song in somber realization, and although a part of Vokara wanted to keep fighting, she knew that Obi-Wan had suffered long enough, and now…

Perhaps it was time to let go—let him join the Force and _rest_.

The sound of a lightsaber igniting somewhere nearby brought her out of her musing. The realization of what exactly that meant crashed into her senses just as Master Plo and Bant jumped to their feet, hands reaching for their sabers.

If there was a lightsaber being ignited in the Halls, then it was very likely that the battle had already arrived, that they hadn’t acted quickly enough to lock down the Halls.

“What should we—”

Bant’s eyes widened, and she gestured upwards, to the ceiling just by the room’s entrance.

A green lightsaber had driven through the ceiling, forming a small circle. Vokara heard Master Plo’s lightsaber ignite from behind her as the Kel Dor Master took a few quiet steps closer, in tentative anticipation.

A circular piece of the ceiling fell to the floor with a heavy _thump_ , and—

Vokara’s eyes widened in shock as her heart jumped up to her throat, robbing her of her voice.

“Master _Yoda_?” Bant exclaimed as the Grandmaster dropped to the ground from the ceiling in a quick, smooth motion.

The ancient Master quirked an exhausted smile, quickly deactivating his lightsaber and gesturing upwards with his free hand.

“A few friends, with me, I have brought,” he announced, and Vokara looked up to the new hole in the ceiling, still sparking slightly from the lightsaber plunged into it mere moments ago. She squinted, and in that moment, Vokara saw a small Rodian head peek out from behind the hole, standing on the vent in front of a long line of shadows further back.

“The younglings,” Master Plo breathed, rushing over to start helping them move down through the hole to the ground. Vokara and Bant rushed forward to help, looking over each of the younglings for signs of injury or distress.

By the time the four of them brought the younglings down from the ceiling, Vokara knelt down and began examining them more closely. It appeared as though none of them had been harmed, but she could feel the worry and anxiety rolling off of them in waves.

“And the rest?” Plo murmured softly to Master Yoda from where they stood next to Obi-Wan’s bed.

The ancient Master bowed his head in quiet grief. “Separated from the other children and the crèchemasters, these younglings have become,” he explained, voice quiet. “About the other younglings, I do not know.”

Vokara scanned the room, quickly counting about 30 younglings, all looking at her with a mixture of confusion, worry, and desperation. A few of them were crying softly, while the others were huddled together, whispering to each other.

A small Togruta and a Nautolan child were standing side by side, whispering quiet reassurances to each other. Just behind them, the Rodian child from earlier held a Tholothian in a one-armed hug, both of them looking up at Vokara with bright, teary eyes.

These were _children_ looking to her for hope, for a clear answer that would get them out of this situation.

Above everything else, she wished she would be able to tell them what they so obviously wanted to hear.

“Bant,” she said, turning towards the Mon Calamari, who was talking quietly to a Wookiee youngling, head bowed. At the sound of Vokara’s voice, she looked up.

“Yes, Master?” she asked, pulling herself to her feet.

“Take these younglings to the southern waiting area,” she commanded, “and see to any healing they may need.”

Bant blinked, and her eyes flickered to Obi-Wan, who remained unconscious despite the sheer number of people gathered in the room and the hole in the ceiling. Then, she moved towards Vokara, desperate and unsure.

“But what about—”

“I fear that there is little we can do now,” Vokara murmured in response, just loud enough for Bant to hear her. “His suffering has gone on long enough, Bant.”

Bant let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, tears slipping out of the corners. She trembled, and Vokara felt the urge to pull her away, to do _something_ to make things right. If she had the time, she’d definitely indulge herself with that urge, but now…

What else could she do?

Vokara opened her mouth to reply, but another quiet voice cut through the air.

“Sit with Obi-Wan, I will.”

Master Yoda was standing next to Vokara now, looking up at the bed with bright eyes. His shoulders were hunched over, and his cane was pressed firmly against the floor, taking on all of his weight.

“Help him, I can,” Master Yoda continued. “Help him, I _will_.”

Vokara nodded slowly, watching as the ancient Master jumped up onto the chair next to the bed, leaning forward to place a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“Don’t—don’t do anything to him without…” Bant’s voice trailed off as she scrubbed at her face, wiping her tears away.

Vokara nodded. “Of course, Bant,” she replied, voice gentle. “Now, take some time to gather yourself and tend to these children.”

With Bant’s quiet agreement, it only took about a minute for her to lead the younglings out of the room. Master Plo offered to help escort the children to the waiting area before going to Master Windu’s room, which left Vokara and Master Yoda alone in the room with Obi-Wan.

As soon as the door closed behind Bant, Vokara walked up to her patient, taking a moment to study him closely. Obi-Wan’s face was thin and hollow, with dark, heavy bags under his eyes, a clear indication of just how difficult the illness had been for him.

Master Yoda hummed, closing his eyes and expanding his presence to something that felt like a comforting warmth in the Force. Vokara had felt that exact warmth before—it often did her patients good, and Obi-Wan was no different.

In response, the tightness in Obi-Wan’s jaw relaxed as his head sank back ever so slightly into his pillows. Vokara knew the relief would be temporary, that Obi-Wan had suffered for so long already, but…

_Not yet_.

“Master Yoda, I must attend to my duties,” she announced, looking up from Obi-Wan to look at the ancient Master. “Will you be alright by yourself for a while? I suspect Master Plo or Bant will return soon.”

“Yes. Not alone, I will be,” Master Yoda murmured, nodding towards Obi-Wan with a small smile.

“Of course,” Vokara replied, smiling softly. “Be safe, Master.”

And with that, she turned around and left the room.

* * *

Destruction lay throughout the corridors of the Jedi Temple. Once upon a time, it stood tall as a place of safety and refuge for the Jedi Order—a sanctuary, a _home_.

Once upon a time, it had been _his_ home.

Now, Dooku waded through its corridors, taking in the sight of the massacre that had completely taken over. He’d lost track of how many bodies he’d stumbled across—Jedi and clone alike, sightless eyes often staring directly up at him, almost in accusation.

A lesser man would have been distraught upon seeing all of this. Perhaps, if he had allowed himself the time to reflect, Dooku would have allowed himself to embrace the fury boiling deep within him.

However, the clock was ticking, and he was running out of time.

After all, it was very clear what exactly was happening here, and Dooku knew what had to be done to stop it. All it took was him getting himself to the right place as soon as possible, before it was too late.

Quiet footsteps sounded from somewhere behind him, drawing him away from his thoughts. Dooku turned slowly and was greeted with the very last person he expected to see—here, of all places.

“Count Dooku.”

The Padawan stared at him with wide, shimmering eyes. In the Force, she emanated despair and confusion. An ignited lightsaber sat in her palm, pointing green light down to the floor, while the hilt of the shoto stayed in her left hand.

In the dim light, Dooku spotted the bruises on her face, the blood weeping out of a cut on her left forearm, and—

“You did this, didn’t you?” Tano asked, pointing her lightsaber directly at him. Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of desperation and torment, an open display of prolonged pain.

“I did not,” Dooku replied, ignoring her movements. “There are…larger forces at work here, and I only intend to stop them before it progresses past the point of no return.”

Tano’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Those creatures—they only appeared after you arrived. How do you explain that?”

The Force shuddered, ringing ominously in his ears as death clapped into the Force. The Padawan’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward, lightsaber at the ready.

Dooku paused, unsure.

“I…”

The floor trembled, and the Force cried out in warning just before the blaster bolts sounded around them, along with the angry _hiss_ of lightsabers. Tano’s eyes widened as the heavy footsteps grew closer and closer.

“I cannot explain it—not now,” Dooku said, reaching for his own lightsaber.

The Padawan raised a brow, spinning around just in time to block a blaster bolt coming from a clone with blue and white armor. She gasped at the sight, and Dooku briefly wondered if the Padawan recognized the man who was shooting at her.

In that exact moment, pandemonium broke out around them.

A sea of clones washed towards them, blaster bolts soaring in the air towards Tano, who ignited her shoto to defend herself against the onslaught. The undead creatures began to rush towards them—so many of them that Dooku couldn’t spare himself the time to count.

There were simply _too_ many of them, and they were completely surrounded.

Dooku ignited his lightsaber and spun around to deflect the bolts aimed for Tano’s back, positioning himself just behind her. The Padawan was breathing heavily, struggling to keep up with the sheer number of clones and creatures around them.

He needed to act— _now_. More than that, he needed to get to his destination, and the battle ensuing around him was only causing more of a delay.

An idea formed in his head.

“Get ready to jump,” he exclaimed, loud enough for Tano to hear.

“Wait, what?” she asked over the roar of lightsabers and blasters around them.

Dooku took a deep breath, raised his free hand up to the ceiling, and crushed it downwards, allowing the columns around them to fall one by one, blocking them off from the enemy. Dust enveloped the air around them, thick and opaque enough for Dooku to be unable to anyone besides Tano.

Then, in a single, smooth motion, Dooku plunged his lightsaber to the ground and began to cut deeply through the ancient marble.

With a deep sigh from behind him, Tano followed suit, using both lightsabers to form a semi circle around her feet.

The sound of blaster bolts vibrated through the air, a warning.

“Hurry up!” Tano exclaimed, voice hoarse. “This was your bright idea, after all.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes and respond, Dooku grabbed at his lightsaber hilt with both hands. With a final, heavy motion, Dooku finished cutting through the floor, and then he pushed downwards with the Force, and the floor collapsed below their feet.

And then together, they fell into the Temple’s depths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmmm, cliffhangers :)
> 
> Anyways, since Whumptober is over, I should be able to get back to my normal update schedule with this fic, so I'd say to expect the next chapter in 2-3 weeks.
> 
> Thank you, and please leave a comment on your way out!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of stillness, before chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone! :)
> 
> Sorry for the delay on this; it's been super busy with the end of the year coming up.
> 
> But here it is! Enjoy! :)

She was falling.

Ahsoka’s mouth opened in a silent scream as cold air rushed past her body, faster and faster, with no indication of when she would encounter solid ground. The Force whistled past her montrals, tingling almost uncomfortably.

Then, a quiet pulse in warning.

Ahsoka blinked, seeing a dark ground rising up to meet her, mere yards away. With a deep breath, Ahsoka reached for the Force, allowing it to slow her impact and land in a crouch a few feet away from Dooku.

As she stood up, eyes skimming over her surroundings, Ahsoka realized that she’d fallen to one of the Temple’s lower levels, which was even further away from the crèche than the Halls of Healing were.

Worse, she was with _Dooku_ , who was likely the person who caused all of this to happen. He was a Sith, and Sith were known the deceive and to lie. Darth Sidious must have sent him to infiltrate the Temple, so that the creatures would be allowed in.

It made sense, after all.

Before he even managed to stand up fully, Ahsoka’s lightsaber was ignited once again. She pointed it to the back of his neck.

“Don’t move an inch,” she growled. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t run you through, when you’ve decided to turn against us like this.” Her lightsaber dipped slightly, the hilt a heavy weight in her palm, dragging it down, down, down…

“You will do no such thing,” Dooku replied, and slowly, he turned to face her, hands raised in surrender. “You are a Jedi, first of all, but more than that, you are the grandpadawan of _my_ grandpadawan, and I know he would not want you to do this.”

Ahsoka’s breaths shuddered, forming a puff of cold fog in front of her mouth. She shivered and closed her eyes.

Her Grandmaster was a Jedi, and so was she. Obi-Wan had taught her many things over the past few years—from jar’kai and diplomacy to leadership and meditation. No matter what, Ahsoka made sure to remember it all.

With the war and the number of Jedi dying out on the field, not many Padawans even _had_ a Grandmaster, after all.

She was lucky, but for how much longer?

Ahsoka sighed, extinguishing her lightsaber and opening her eyes again. “Tell me,” she demanded, voice shaking. “Where are we? How do I get back to the upper levels?”

Dooku’s hands lowered as he regarded her, eyebrows furrowed. “The upper levels?” he echoed, looking upwards, to where they’d fallen from.

“I need to find the younglings,” Ahsoka replied, gesturing around their surroundings, dark and unfamiliar. “I was on the way to the crèche to _find_ them and bring them to safety. I promised that I would find them, because…”

_Because I cannot sit back and do nothing, when everything around me is falling apart._

“I promised,” she rasped, shaking her head. “So I need to get back up there, _now_.”

A sharp, cold laugh. “There are far more important matters,” Dooku replied, eyes flicking over to meet Ahsoka’s.

“More important than the younglings? Than the future of the Jedi?” Ahsoka challenged, taking a step forward. “I have no idea how you could have once been a Jedi, how you could have trained a Jedi as great as Master Qui-Gon had—”

“Do _not_ mention his name. You know nothing about him.”

Dooku’s eyes flashed, a glimmer of sickly yellow in the dimness around them. The temperature around them dropped with his words, and Ahsoka suppressed a shiver.

“I know plenty,” Ahsoka replied. “I know what I’ve learned from my teachers; I know what what Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi have told me about him. I know enough to know that you’ve betrayed him. You’ve betrayed _us_.”

The words echoed between them, heavy and potent. Dooku’s mouth snapped shut as his eyes pulled away, and Ahsoka found herself wondering if she’d actually managed to somehow strike a nerve.

In the distance, somewhere far, far away, Ahsoka heard the echoes of blasterfire, along with the humming of lightsabers.

“There are more important matters at hand.” Dooku’s voice was quiet, a surety. “We must destroy the source and stop this invasion from progressing any further.”

“The source?” Ahsoka echoed, tilting her head in confusion. “What source?”

The Force shuddered, and Ahsoka shivered again, teeth chattering as the cold seeped into her bones. It was…strong and oppressive, rushing into her mind with a precision that was more than slightly terrifying.

_Breathe, Ahsoka._

Dooku’s eyes trailed upwards, to where they had just fallen from. “They will follow us down here,” he replied.

“What source?” Ahsoka repeated pointedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am not going to along with any of this until you tell me what exactly is going on.”

Her words echoed into the coldness, drifting between them. Ahsoka stared at Dooku, refusing to look away for even a second.

“My Master is missing and my grandmaster is dying, if he hasn’t already joined the Force,” she continued, voice hoarse. “You said it before—he is _your_ grandpadawan, right? Tell me what I need to know because right now, I have no reason to trust anything you say.”

Dooku’s eyes shuttered, and then he sighed softly, shoulders slumping.

“It is a long story, and I was not privy to all of the details,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his chin. “But I will tell you what I know.”

He paused again, and Ahsoka raised her brows, resisting the urge to give into her impatience by tapping her foot.

“The source—” Dooku began, staring coolly back at Ahsoka with narrowed eyes, “—refers to the Sith magic sustaining this invasion. If we destroy the source—”

“We can stop all of this,” Ahsoka breathed. Uncrossing her arms, she brought a hand up to her eyes, scrubbing the exhaustion away. “The creatures—they’re products of this magic? Is that what you’re telling me?”

A pause, followed by a quiet nod.

“To put it simply, yes,” he replied. “The magic is powerful. Without it, the Jedi can regain control of the Temple and confront Sidious. Without it, there may be balance.”

_Balance_.

That was what they were fighting for, after all. The war, the Jedi Order’s struggle against the Sith, the battles, the loss, the _death_ —it was all in the name of balance.

It was all to bring balance to the Force and to the galaxy.

And if what Dooku was saying was _true_ , then the opportunity was there to end all of this now, before things got any worse.

Maybe she would lose her family, but Ahsoka could make sure that no one else ever would. She could make sure the Jedi Order survived—that it _thrived_ under a time of peace and light.

“I understand,” she whispered, voice crackling into the cold. The Force echoed her agreement, desperate and reassuring all at once.

As much as she couldn’t bring herself to trust Dooku, Ahsoka knew what she had to do. If there was the opportunity to stop _all_ of this, she had little choice.

“Tell me what I must do.”

* * *

With the younglings secured in the southern waiting area, guarded by a few other Healers and Knights, Bant began to walk back to Obi-Wan’s room.

Around her, the Halls was in quiet, desperate disarray. Patients were being divided up and transported to different locations, as was procedure whenever the Halls were to be locked down from the rest of the Temple. Bant had previously studied all of the procedures and protocols as a Padawan, but to see them actually implemented was an entirely different matter.

She never thought something like this would have happened. Even with what little she heard from Obi-Wan about his visions of the fall of the Jedi Order, _this_ was still completely unexpected.

It was possible that Obi-Wan hadn’t foreseen this as well, but…

Well, it wasn’t as though she could _ask_ him that right now.

Sighing, Bant paused in the middle of the corridor, just outside of Obi-Wan’s room. The corridor was empty, but in the distance, she could hear some other Healers in deep conversation. She could feel Master Yoda’s Force presence beyond the door, warm and comforting in spite of the terrible emptiness everywhere else.

There was little comfort to be found now, after all.

As she walked back into the room, Bant noticed Master Yoda sitting in deep meditation next to Obi-Wan’s bed, a clawed hand resting on his shoulder. Something deep inside of her warmed at the sight, as a memory of a similar sight from decades ago came to her mind.

The crèchemasters had allowed her a few visits to the Halls when Obi-Wan was ill as a youngling. During one of those visits, she discovered Master Yoda sitting at Obi’s bedside, just like he did now, meditating.

It was almost as though the ancient Master had been watching over him, somehow. After all, _something_ had to have brought Obi-Wan back, all those years ago. Maybe it was something in Master Yoda’s presence, and maybe…

Could it happen again?

Bant couldn’t help but hope that was the case, even now.

“Returned, you have,” Master Yoda murmured, eyes still closed. “Safe, the younglings are?”

Bant nodded, eyes flickering from the ancient Master to Obi-Wan, lying still on the bed. “As safe as they can be, considering the situation,” she replied, walking over to the other side of the bed.

If Obi-Wan looked more relaxed than he did when Bant last saw him, just a half hour ago, she had little choice but to believe it was nothing more than the parts of her mind that clung so desperately to hope, even now.

As though he somehow heard her thoughts, Obi-Wan’s eyebrows furrowed as he let out a quiet, distressed sound. Master Yoda’s eyes opened as he leaned closer to Obi-Wan, placing a hand on his forehead.

“Peace,” the ancient Master murmured, and the Force echoed his words, almost in a song of tranquility.

Obi-Wan’s eyes blinked open just then, and he trembled violently, nearly pushing Master Yoda right off of his stool. In a split-second, Bant was standing next to the bed, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“ _Anakin—_ ”

“It’s alright; we’ll find him, Obi-Wan,” she soothed in what she hoped was a calming voice. “He’ll be here soon, okay?”

Across from the bed, Master Yoda’s face fell, almost in quiet sorrow.

Obi-Wan’s face twitched, and then his head turned, eyes meeting Bant’s directly with startling clarity.

_He’s awake—lucid._

“It’s begun,” he rasped, shifting away from Bant with frantic agitation as he pushed off the oxygen mask on his face, shoulders quivering. With trembling arms, he began to heave himself upwards, to a half-seated position. “I must—Anakin needs me, Bant. I must— _ah_!”

With a sharp, pained cry, Obi-Wan fell back against the headboard, a hand pressed tightly over his face. The Force shuddered, darkness swelling upwards as death clapped into the Force, sending a wave of prickly coldness crashing over Bant’s senses.

“ _No_ ,” Obi-Wan muttered between gritted teeth, voice trembling. “They…they’re coming, and Anakin is—”

The Force shrieked out a warning, and Obi-Wan coughed suddenly, almost wretchedly. And then he coughed again—and _again_. By the time it was over, Obi-Wan was hunched over, even as Master Yoda placed a hand on his forehead, struggling to push him back to a more comfortable position.

Blood dripped out of his mouth onto the covers scrunched up on his lap.

“You need to rest,” she heard herself say, though a part of her wondered if rest would actually help at this point. “It will all be alright, okay? You’re in no state to help, Obi. Let us handle this.”

“Sleep, you must,” Master Yoda murmured, a different sort of warmth coloring his words. “Chaos, yet harmony, Obi-Wan. Remember that, you must.”

A quiet sigh, and then with Bant’s help, Obi-Wan slipped downwards, lying back down on his back. Bant reached forward, securing the oxygen mask back over his face

“Chaos, yet harmony,” she echoed, voice trembling. “And trust…in each other and in the Force.”

“Trust,” Obi-Wan mumbled in response, blinking heavily. “I’m—tired, Bant.”

Bant’s throat tightened, and the urge to break just then, at the open, quiet admission, became near overwhelming. She’d never seen him admit anything like this so easily—not once. But now, everything was…

“Then sleep, Obi-Wan,” she whispered, sending a Force suggestion along with her words.

Bant watched as the tension slipped out of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, as his eyes closed with a quiet sigh.

Master Yoda’s head bowed in quiet sorrow, and something deep in Bant’s stomach twisted, because _that_ had to mean only one thing: the end was coming, and they were running out of options.

And as much as she wished— _hoped_ , really—that she could stay and try to find a solution to whatever it was that was happening to Obi-Wan, the truth was that she couldn’t—not when Jedi were dying by the second, at the hands of their own men.

_And these Sith creatures_.

She was a Jedi, and now…she would do what she must, because that was what Obi-Wan would do.

“Master Yoda, I—”

Her voice croaked in protest, as the ancient Master’s eyes snapped up to meet hers.

“I’m not sure there is much we can do for him now,” she rasped, moving back to sit on the stool behind her. “In any other situation, I would do _everything_ I can, but we have no one to help, let alone any resources, and…”

Bant turned her gaze upwards.

“And we’ve reached the end, Master.”

A few quiet moments, and then Bant looked back down at Master Yoda, whose eyes were closed in deep concentration, as though his mind was somewhere far away. There was an odd tension in his posture, something drawing his shoulders up close to his ears, as though…

“Master?” Bant croaked, resisting the urge to shiver from the tension.

Yoda’s eyes snapped open in desperate warning just as the door flew open to greet chaos.

* * *

With the younglings Master Yoda had brought secured in one of the waiting rooms, Plo found himself moving silently through the Halls’ empty corridors.

There were still many, _many_ younglings and Padawans unaccounted for, but he was glad that he could take comfort in the fact that at least some of them were safe. A part of him ached to go out and search for more, as Ahsoka had done, but…

He was needed here, more than ever. That much was clear.

With most of the Knights and Masters previously inside the Halls now guarding the outside, Plo was now one of the few remaining Masters inside. There was much he had to do here, to make sure nothing would go horribly wrong.

They’d lost too much already, after all.

With a sigh, Plo stopped walking in front of the private bacta room Mace was brought to earlier, sensing Depa’s presence inside, cool and unwavering.

And then, beyond that, he felt the waspish trails of Mace’s presence, desperately clinging on to vitality, still _alive_.

Plo exhaled in quiet relief before opening the door.

“Master Plo,” Depa said with a nod, drawing Plo’s attention to where she sat next to the bacta tank where Mace drifted, deep in unconsciousness. Depa’s hair was pulled into a loose bun, with a few stray strands framing her face. There was a hollowness in her expression, but more than that— _beyond_ that—Plo saw the hope shining in her eyes.

He felt it, too.

“How is he?” he asked softly, tilting his head towards Mace.

Depa’s eyes flickered towards the still form of her Master, glancing briefly at the monitor displaying his vitals. Then, she turned back to Plo.

“Stable,” she replied, voice quiet. “Master Che was saying that he may need surgery or prosthetics for his shoulder, but it’s not possible with everything that is happening right now.”

Letting out a quiet hum, Plo moved himself closer to the tank, looking upwards. Now that he stood closer, he could see the the tension lining Mace’s features, through the thick film of bacta surrounding him.

“What about Obi-Wan?”

Depa’s voice was quiet, barely discernible over the quiet humming of the machines around them.

“Unstable,” he murmured. “He has woken up, but…”

In his mind’s eye, he saw the dried blood, the horrible pallor in Obi-Wan’s face, and…the Force itself, weeping as he drew himself closer and closer. And then—the open, desolate expression on Master Che’s features, confirming his greatest fears.

“I see,” Depa whispered. “I am sorry. This is…” She sniffed. “How could have we allowed something like this to happen?”

“The ones truly at fault for this is the Sith.” Plo shook his head, pulling himself away from the bacta tank. “All we can do now is survive. The Jedi—the way of the Light—must live on, Master Billaba.”

The Force echoed his words, a quiet murmur in the back of his mind.

“Live on,” Depa whispered, as though she heard the call of the Force, through the darkness and confusion and _loss_. “But—how?”

There was no answer—well, not a simple one, at the very least. Too much had already fallen out of place, and now the Jedi were on the verge of losing everything, the Light was on the verge of blinking out of existence, and…

The Republic would fall, directly into the hands of the Sith.

With lineages broken, lives lost, clones’ minds being wrangled far beyond the point of recognition, there was little room for hope, for the normality they’d once had. The odds were simply stacked against them, and there was no time to find a way to survival.

Everything pointed to loss, defeat, and desolation; yet…

“We find hope,” Plo murmured. “That is all we can do now.”

Something in the Force shifted, causing Plo to stumble and frown, and then—a silent scream, as the world around them exploded into chaos and destruction.

* * *

Ahsoka felt it the moment it happened.

Dooku had been leading her closer and closer to something…dark, something _horrible_. She couldn’t quite make sense of it, beyond the encroaching darkness, rising up to her senses in a way that was both nauseating and overwhelming.

And with the hopelessness she was beginning to feel with every step forward, Ahsoka was beginning to wonder if she was walking directly into a trap, or worse—she was already too late.

For all she knew, Anakin and Obi-Wan were already gone, out of reach, and she was just wasting her time with a Sith Lord, instead of trying to help whatever remained of her family.

What was she _doing_?

“Here we are,” Dooku announced, stopping short just in front of her.

Ahsoka’s breath hitched as she looked up at the tall, looming structure in front of her. She didn’t exactly notice when the smooth, cool marble of the Temple basement floor had changed into something rough and unfamiliar—as though they’d left the Jedi Temple and somehow found themselves _below_.

But that didn’t make sense…there wasn’t _anything_ below the Jedi Temple.

Or, at least…that was what she had always thought.

The structure appeared to be a building of some sort. It was tall and dark, almost like a shadow somehow wrapping itself around her. The design appeared to be quite simple, but there was something else, something not quite right.

Ahsoka blinked, and then she felt it.

The darkness—cold and unfamiliar, but powerful. It was something that she wouldn’t have noticed at all unless she hadn’t already been searching for it, as though it was simply hiding itself away.

But that would mean…

_No_.

“What is this?” she asked, eyes shifting towards Dooku with apprehension.

Dooku’s eyes snapped shut as he exhaled. “The source lays within the shrine that sleeps below your Temple,” he replied. “I can feel it. It takes two to destroy it.”

Ahsoka swallowed as the weight of his words crashed into her mind. “I…”

_I’m only a Padawan. I can’t do this._

_Anakin, where are you?_

“This is not the time to hesitate, Padawan Tano. The life of the Jedi Order depends on this.”

Right— _right_.

She needed to do this, no matter what.

It was what her Masters would have done, after all. And she was doing this for them, for all of the Jedi.

“Okay,” she murmured. “I’m ready.”

Together, they took two steps towards the shrine’s entrance, and then—

The Force _screamed_ , almost out of nowhere.

Ahsoka’s breath hitched as the Sith creatures began to spill out of the shrine’s entrance, lightsabers casting a blood-red glow to the darkness around them.

“It’s a trap,” she breathed, and the quiet stillness around her descended into chaos.

* * *

_“Rise, Lord Vader.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))))))
> 
> Anyways, I definitely can't say that I can update in 2-3 weeks anymore. Things are just super busy, but I will do my best to get the next chapter out soon :) Remember: you can always check out my tumblr to see how things are going with the next chapter!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please leave a comment on your way out! :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the depths of chaos, Light and Dark clash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hi! It's been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> This chapter is a Lot. Buckle up and enjoy the ride, my friends :)

_When Bant was young—before the war, before the chaos—she used to enjoy swimming in the Room of a Thousand Fountains._

_Back then, everything made a lot more sense. There were no Sith, no war, no pain and desperation plaguing the galaxy. Life as a Jedi in times of peace was bright, simple. All those years ago, the Force was a beacon of hope—of light._

_She could not say for sure when exactly everything went wrong._

_One day, just a few days before Master Tahl had chosen her to be her Padawan, she and Obi-Wan had stumbled across a spring with crystal blue water, nestled between a pair of ancient trees all the way at the highest level of the gardens. Bant remembered seeing the sunlight reflecting off of the surface of the water, casting its surroundings with a bright, blue glow._

_It was…beautiful._

_Upon seeing the spring, she had rushed forward, toeing off her boots and socks before sitting down at the edge, letting her feet sink below its depths. Obi-Wan had followed suit, laughing with an almost uncharacteristic amount of glee._

_They spent a few hours sitting by the spring, until the Coruscanti sun began its descent from the sky, painting the sky with vibrant, luminous colors._

_Bant remembered leaning back to stare up at the sky, her feet still plunged into the spring’s depths, her best friend lying down next to her. The Force had been singing to her—a song of peace and joy, and she remembered feeling mesmerized by its song, drifting in the warmth of the moment._

_“Bant?” Obi-Wan asked suddenly, causing her to blink and turn her head towards him._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Do you—” Obi-Wan swallowed, turning his head to stare back up at the sky with wide eyes. “Do you believe in prophecies?”_

_Bant blinked. “What, you mean like those legends we learned about in history, or something else?”_

_Obi-Wan continued staring up at the sky, as though he was searching for something—though it wasn’t quite dark enough for him to see the stars, as far as Bant knew._

_“Obi-Wan? Why are you asking me this?”_

_Obi-Wan huffed out a laugh, turning his head once again to look back at her. He smiled softly, eyes clear and bright._

_“It’s just something I’ve been thinking about,” he said. “Nothing more.”_

_There was something strange in his voice, but…_

_“Are you sure?”_

_A pause, then something flickered deep in Obi-Wan’s eyes—hesitation, or even quiet uncertainty. It was only there for a split-second, barely enough time for Bant to even examine it further, before it disappeared._

_Obi-Wan sighed, turning back to stare up at the glowing sky, trailing his fingers over the darkening grass near his knees. “Just…a feeling.”_

_“A bad one?” she pressed._

_He didn’t reply. Instead, Obi-Wan frowned up at the sky, face shadowed by the tree branches angled over them. There was a faraway glimmer in his eyes, a distance that reminded her of what he’d faced in the past, when—_

_“Obi-Wan?”_

_“It’s nothing,” Obi-Wan murmured, turning his head again to look at her directly. “Just—don’t worry about me. It will be alright.”_

The sound of the door crashing open wrenched Bant right out of the memory, causing her heart to leap up to her throat. From where he sat across from her, Master Yoda’s head jerked upwards before a green flash of light streaked across her vision.

Bant watched, stunned, as blasterfire filled the air around them.

In a split-second, she had her own lightsaber ignited, angling herself directly in front of Obi-Wan, who remained unconscious. Through the open doorway, she could see a crowd of clone trooper helmets, gleaming with sickening red light.

“They’re here,” she breathed.

As Bant moved into a defensive stance, she saw a flash of a red lightsaber, somewhere behind the troopers crowded at the doorway. Master Yoda stood a few feet in front of her, his lightsaber flashing in a green blur all around him.

The quiet humming of the machines around her, along with the comforting _thrum_ of her own lightsaber was all washed out by the horrible ringing in her ears.

It was over. They’d lost. Any chance of survival—of stopping the Darkness from overtaking the Light—had been destroyed, completely and utterly.

Through the chaos, death, and destruction, Bant held her lightsaber aloft, its green glow casting the room in comforting light. Her breaths felt heavy in her chest, echoing oddly with each of her movements.

A blaster bolt whittled past her shoulder, flying directly into the oxygen tank, which sparked and sputtered before letting out a hissing sound as all of the air was siphoned out.

Bant blinked, nearly freezing in place.

“No,” she whispered.

As she continued moving, struggling to focus on blocking whatever bolts she could, the machines around her began to shut down—one by one, until the only thing she could hear besides her lightsaber and the _chaos_ was the ragged, uneven sounds of Obi-Wan’s breathing.

In front of her, Master Yoda’s lightsaber jerked upwards before he flung his free hand forward, causing the line of clone troopers directly in front of him to fly back, somewhere outside of the room. Then, in a single fluid motion, the cabinet next to the door was pulled directly in front of the entrance.

Relief—but Bant knew it was temporary.

Blinking slowly, Bant turned towards Obi-Wan, whose eyes were open, staring desperately up at the ceiling as he struggled for air. With the machines around them destroyed, the IV bags spilled open, and the Force shattering around them, there was nothing left to help him.

Nothing, except Bant.

“No,” she repeated, voice shaking as she turned off her lightsaber and rushed over to her friend. 

Obi-Wan’s mouth worked as his neck arched off the pillow, in a desperate attempt to get some air. His eyes, bright and wild, raked around the room, as his fingers curled into tight fists at his sides.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, turning back towards the door to deflect a few more bolts. With her free hand, she reached for Obi-Wan’s shoulder, squeezing desperately.

“ _Bant_ —” A horrible, rattling exhale.

“I know, I know,” she whispered, in a way that she hoped was comforting. A bolt skittered far above her head, just out of reach, landing on the wall behind her.

The Force shuddered.

“ _Go_.” Obi-Wan’s voice was strangled, unfamiliar.

“I’m not leaving you,” she replied, turning back to deflect a pair of bolts. In the corner of her vision, Bant spotted Master Yoda holding back the storm, his features set in deep concentration.

This was…too much—overwhelmingly so. There were too many of them for Master Yoda to fight off alone, and Bant had to assume that if they were here, then…

Their defenses had fallen, and the Temple was now completely overrun with destruction and chaos. The younglings that Master Yoda had just brought to the Halls, Ahsoka, Masters Plo, Billaba, and Windu, Master Che— _everyone_ was in danger.

And she couldn’t do anything about it, except fight for survival, and—

“So you have to hold on so you can yell at me later, okay?” Her voice trembled as she looked back at Obi-Wan, only to freeze completely in her tracks at the sight of him lying completely, unnaturally still.

Something deep in her stomach twisted, and she shivered, the horrible realization rushing through her mind in a split-second.

“No,” she whispered, desperate. “ _No_.”

It was over.

* * *

It happened in a matter of seconds, and without warning.

In hindsight, Plo should have seen it coming. There had been a distinct sort of quietness in the Halls and in the Force. It should have been obvious that the quietness was nothing more than the calm before the storm.

But in the moment, he hadn’t realized what was coming.

As the door crashed open, leaving destruction behind in its wake, Plo ignited his lightsaber, swinging it in a broad arc to deflect the array of bolts skittering towards him and Depa. Distantly, he heard Depa ignite her own saber, but his attention was pulled towards the clone troopers walking through door, blasters at the ready.

“Commander?” His voice cracked through his mask, uncertain and feeble.

The clones assembled in front of him were from his battalion, with the Wolfpack standing directly at the front, helmets glinting in the dim light.

Next to him, Depa sucked in a breath, stunned to silence.

“Wolffe,” he continued, raising a hand placatingly toward his second-in-command. “You don’t have to do this, my friend. We’ve fought side by side for years; you _know_ me more than that chip in your head is telling you.”

A pause, a moment of silence. Plo held his breath, and a part of him hoped that maybe, just _maybe_ —

“The Jedi Knights have been marked for termination by Order 66.” Wolffe’s voice, cold and unfamiliar, filtered through his helmet. “Good soldiers follow orders.”

“Wolffe—”

Blaster bolts rushed through the air, and in a split-second, Plo was deflecting them, Depa following suit next to him. Behind them, the bacta tank hissed on and on, as though nothing at all was happening.

But in reality, there was so much happening— _too_ much.

The blaster bolts came faster and faster, and Plo found himself struggling to push past to horrible burning sensation on his left arm, along with the odd heaviness the darkness brought into the Force.

Depa appeared to be faring better than him, but only slightly.

Retreating was out of the question. They couldn’t afford to leave Mace behind floating in the bacta tank—an easy target for the enemy.

“Any suggestions?” he hissed between heavy breaths, limbs trembling from exertion.

With a heavy grunt, Depa flung her hands forward, driving the clone troopers back a few yards. Her eyes flashed towards the room’s entrance, eyebrows furrowed.

“Well,” Depa began, voice tense, “we cannot leave Mace here, and we cannot allow them to get any closer, before—”

A bolt slipped past her guard, above her head, directly into the bacta tank. In a split-second, a hairline fracture appeared on the glass surface, spreading out like some sort of web. Plo watched, heart sinking, as the glass shattered and Mace tumbled out, along with a rush of bacta.

“Block the entrance!” Depa exclaimed, spinning around to grab at Mace carefully. With a quick nod, Plo shifted his stance, lifting his uninjured arm towards the ceiling at the entrance, just above Wolffe’s head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and with a single, quick motion, the ceiling fell on top of his men, sealing them away.

With a sigh, Plo’s shoulders slumped. He forced in a breath, reaching for stability, calmness.

“I’m so sorry,” Plo repeated, turning to face the destruction behind him.

* * *

It happened all at once.

Ahsoka barely managed to ignite her lightsaber in time to block the red lightsaber arching towards her middle. With a half-step backwards, she ignited her shoto as well, letting herself fall into a defensive position.

In front of her, she saw Dooku’s eyes narrow in deep concentration, his lightsaber angled carefully in front of him as he turned to face the onslaught of creatures approaching him. His movements were quick and precise, and there was _something_ to them that reminded her of—

_No, not now. Focus, Ahsoka._

Right now, the goal was to get to the shrine.

She’d only ever seen Dooku wield a lightsaber once before, and that was in a battle early on in her apprenticeship. Ahsoka knew that as a Jedi, Dooku had been a Makashi master, that he was nearly impossible to best in a duel.

Now, she understood why.

As Ahsoka struggled to keep up, swinging her lightsabers around her in a green-yellow protective shield, Dooku cut down the creatures easily, as though they were nothing more than droids.

The only issue was that once they fell, they would rise once again.

And their numbers were rising.

“We need to retreat!” she shouted, over the sounds of lightsabers clashing together. Her limbs trembled before she jumped back to give herself more breathing room.

_Inhale, exhale._

Dooku shifted towards her, eyebrows raised. “There are even more of them inside,” he replied, nodding towards the shrine. “We must draw them out—as many of them as possible.”

Huffing out a breath, Ahsoka took another step back, pulling her shoto upwards to block a blow coming from her left. The creature holding the lightsaber grinned at her, pushing down at her saber with a menacing screech.

The Force roared in her montrals, an all-encompassing, overwhelming sensation that sent shivers down her spine.

It was just so _much_.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” she exclaimed, gesturing around herself with her shoto. “There’s no opening, nowhere to even go, Dooku!”

As expected, Dooku didn’t reply—or, at least, not right away. She couldn’t really see him at all with the sheer number of creatures surrounding him. All that she could see was the red of his lightsaber, flashing in and out of existence.

They weren’t going to last much longer, but Ahsoka couldn’t see any way out.

There was a moment of stillness before a different sound filled the corridor—something that felt almost the charge of an electrical storm, or the split-second before an explosion. Her senses tingled, something shifted, and it almost smelled like…ash?

Then, the ground shook, and all the creatures flew back, _away_.

“Does that work?” Dooku asked from where he stood a few feet away, left hand outstretched. A smirk played at the edges of his mouth.

Sighing, Ahsoka took a step back, lightsabers angled protectively in front of her as she glanced back at the shrine, heart thumping in her montrals.

Once again, the ground trembled, causing Ahsoka’s mouth to go dry. Slowly, she turned around, watching as the creatures rushed back towards them, seemingly undeterred by Dooku’s previous actions.

_Oh, not good._

“Now what?” she asked, lifting her shoto a bit higher.

“Get to the shrine,” Dooku replied, shifting into a more defensive position, to something that almost resembled Master Obi-Wan’s variant of Soresu. “I will hold them off for as long as I can. The rest is now up to you, Padawan Tano.”

Ahsoka felt her heart sink to her stomach.

“Alone?” she croaked, suppressing a shiver. “I—”

“There is no time to discuss this any further,” Dooku declared, taking a few steps forward before glancing back at her over his shoulder. “You must go. _Now_.”

Ahsoka swallowed as she took a tentative step back. “I understand,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

Then, she turned around and ran away as fast as she could.

* * *

“How is he?”

Depa blinked at the sound of Plo’s voice, barely discernible over the roaring in her ears. The chaos around her seemed to have died down, for the moment, but it persisted in the Force—strong and overwhelming.

With a frown, She reached over and put a hand over his forehead, reaching into the Force. Mace was unconscious through the chaos and destruction, but he was stable. 

Depa supposed she could be grateful for that, though it was difficult for her to be grateful when everything was just so, so wrong.

“Alive,” she said finally, looking back up at Plo. “But he won’t last like this. He needs bacta, but…”

Plo let out a breath. “Bacta patches,” he replied, walking over to one of the cabinets and opening it. “It will not be as effective as the tank, but we have no other options.”

With the entrance barricaded and the bacta tank destroyed, Depa was inclined to agree.

It only took Plo a few moments to find the bacta patches and toss them to Depa. As soon as she finished applying the patches, Plo pulled a heating blanket out of the cabinet and placed it over Mace’s body.

The two of them knelt side-by-side in the silence, feeling the Force recoil with darkness and despair. It was powerful, overwhelming—unlike anything she had ever experienced before. If she was being honest with herself, Depa didn’t see a way out of this.

And something told her that Plo was feeling the same way.

“What now?” she asked. The ground shook, and the sounds of blasterfire, lightsabers, and explosions rang through her ears, causing her heart to drop to her stomach.

Plo looked at the barricade—the destroyed ceiling that he’d forced down onto the floor earlier—and shook his head.

“They will cut through in a matter of minutes,” he murmured, standing up. “We must be ready, Master Billaba.”

With the odds stacked against them, with _everything_ going horribly, horribly wrong, Depa knew that there was only one option, one way to keep going.

Looking up at Plo, she nodded in agreement.

“We will be ready,” she replied, and the Force echoed her words.

* * *

Ahsoka never really did enjoy being alone.

It made little sense, really—she was a Jedi, and in the past, she’d always felt a sense of belonging in the Force, no matter what. There had been Light, along with the feeling of unity with the other Jedi.

Her bonds with her Master and Grandmaster only seemed to fortify that feeling in the Force, until they fell away into destruction and the darkness took over.

That was the first loss she’d felt, devastating and heartbreakingly _real_.

She missed them so much.

Now, in the cold unfamiliarity of the Sith shrine, it was worse. Ever since she closed the doors to the entrance, Ahsoka had been physically alone. There was _no one_ in here—no Sith, no Jedi, just…nothing.

Except that wasn’t entirely true, because there were the voices—quiet, whispery, impossible to decipher.

Shivering, Ahsoka wrapped her arms around herself and continued forward.

It was difficult to see, even with her lightsaber ignited, casting a green glow to her surroundings. When she squinted at her surroundings, she could see a bunch of dark shadows, forming some sort of a maze.

She kept walking right into these structures, so she would turn and continue walking, almost aimlessly as the voices continued, impossible for her to understand.

What was she supposed to _do_?

Dooku had said something about destroying the source, but how was she supposed to do that? A part of her thought that the answer would’ve been right there, but…

As she stepped forward, her left foot kicked against something hard, _again_.

“Kriff,” she murmured, retreating ever so slightly. It was yet another structure, ice cold and made of stone. With a sigh, she moved her saber forward, allowing the light to fall over the structure.

Her breath hitched.

A body, lying on top of an altar of some sort. The body was misshapen, almost skeletal, and it had no eyes, but there was something familiar about it, something—

_Wait_.

Blinking, Ahsoka took another step back, only to step back into another structure. She spun around with a gasp, letting the light fall on top of another structure, another altar with a body with no eyes.

And then she turned again and lifted her lightsaber higher, allowing her eyes to adjust fully to the darkness.

There were bodies all _around_ her—dead, unmoving, yet…

The voices continued whispering, louder.

But this meant…this _had_ to mean that—

“Oh, no,” she whispered, turning around to slowly take in her surroundings.

Ahsoka was surrounded by the bodies of the undead, by the bodies of the creatures who now marched on this Temple, bringing havoc and destruction and _death_ in its wake. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and her sweaty hands trembled as she continued holding her lightsaber aloft.

It felt as though the temperature in the cavern had dropped a few degrees, as though she was walking the caves of Ilum, except the Force wasn’t guiding her like it had when she searched for her lightsaber crystals.

She was alone, in the dark, trapped.

And now, she had no way out.

_“Ahsoka?”_

The voice was louder than the whispers, emerging from somewhere in her mind. The familiarity of it was shocking, _impossible_.

And yet—she was hearing a voice she hadn’t heard in what felt like such a long time, and along with it came the memories, the slight feeling of hope rushing through her mind, despite her current situation.

“Master Kenobi?” she whispered, voice trembling.

This made little sense. She hadn’t felt anything in the Force at all, nothing that resembled his presence at all, and yet…

She blinked. That was it, wasn’t it? His presence had faded away, and now, it was…here?

“No, it’s impossible,” she murmured to herself. “This is a trick, or—”

_“Ahsoka,”_ the voice repeated, louder this time. Ahsoka spun around, looking for any sign of movement, but there was nothing, except for the bodies stretched out on the altars.

“A Sith trick,” she continued, forcing herself to ignore what she had just heard. She needed to _focus_ , to find the source that Dooku had mentioned earlier, and stop the attack on the Temple. There was no time for distractions, for the impossible.

She couldn’t afford to lose any more time.

_“Reach out, Ahsoka,”_ Obi-Wan’s voice continued, echoing oddly in her montrals, _“You must find it, now.”_

“Find it?” she echoed, tilting her head. For an illusion, the voice seemed to know how to confuse Ahsoka, just like her Grandmaster had done many times in the past. “Find what? And _where_?”

The Force shuddered, and she shivered, turning slightly to her left, where there was a pinprick of light, surrounded by a swirl of black, and—

_“There.”_ Obi-Wan’s voice was a whisper, mixing eerily with the other voices. _“Hurry.”_

And then, he was gone.

Ahsoka blinked, frozen to the spot. There was no way that was _really_ Obi-Wan, but for a moment it really, really felt like her Grandmaster.

But that would make no sense.

“Master?” she said, a bit louder. When she didn’t get a response, Ahsoka began to walk forward, carefully avoiding walking into any more altars. She forced her eyes away from the bodies, away from the creatures, focusing only on her destination.

There was no more time to waste.

Though Obi-Wan’s voice had faded away, the whispers grew louder and louder as Ahsoka moved closer and closer to the light. Shaking her head, she gritted her teeth and pressed on.

Each step grew heavier and heavier, and the coldness around her became more and more frigid, more impossible to bear. Ahsoka’s teeth chattered, and her head pounded incessantly as the voices screamed, as the darkness pressed onto her mind.

She didn’t know exactly how much time had passed when she reached her destination. Ahsoka stared, eyes wide, at the familiar-looking light suspended mid-air, surrounded by oppressive darkness, and then it clicked.

Ahsoka let out a quiet gasp, taking a step forward.

“A holocron?” she whispered, tentatively reaching a hand forward and stopping it right before the swirl of darkness. “But it looks so… _wrong_.”

What she thought was a light wasn’t _just_ a light, but a Jedi holocron, except it looked completely different from any holocron she had seen before. For one thing, the light wasn’t blue, like the holocrons she’d seen in the Archives, but a bright white color.

More than that, however, was its flashing light, the voices, and the pure _wrongness_ in the Force, ringing painfully in her mind.

“It’s corrupted,” she whispered, as though something inside of her just _knew_ what was wrong with it. Ahsoka lifted a hand and closed her eyes.

_I have to cure it._

There was barely any Light to be found, and yet, Ahsoka reached desperately for it. Something deep in her mind stirred, something warm and _familiar_ , and then she found herself reaching for it, for the memories of better days, better times.

Then, there was Light.

At some point, the world seemed to shake with sounds of footsteps around her, but Ahsoka turned her focus inwards, to the Force. The Light was growing, slowly but steadily, and the holocron was beginning to emanate a warmth, reaching up to her palms.

_It’s—it’s working?_

Ahsoka forced her eyes open. The holocron was glowing a brilliant white light, the darkness surrounding it diminished to near nothingness. Around her, the walls of the shrine seemed to glow with similar light, casting the room in brightness.

The Force let out a sigh, and then she felt something tug at her mind. Frowning, Ahsoka closed her eyes once again.

There was a voice, a new and unfamiliar one. Ahsoka couldn’t quite make it out, but then she heard it, loud and clear:

_“Now, I shall take you to where you are most needed.”_

Then, everything turned white.

* * *

In hindsight, taking on the undead Sith alone was probably not the best idea Dooku had recently.

To be fair, it wasn’t as though he had many other options. As a Jedi, Tano had the best chance to confront whatever it was that was inside the shrine, and Dooku knew he would be of little use in there.

The darkness would tempt him too easily, after all.

He didn’t quite know how long he’d be able to last. At some point, he heard some strange rumbling sounds from behind him, where the shrine stood. It seemed as though _something_ had been happening, but Dooku couldn’t risk turning around to see what it was.

All he knew was that there was light, and a lot of it.

At some point, he blinked…

…and found himself standing somewhere else.

“What?” he murmured.

The corridor around him was regal, filled with familiar-looking statues and silence. The windows nearby showed a view of Coruscant. The sky was riddled with chaos, with sirens flashing nearly everywhere and traffic at a near standstill.

It was clear that the attack on the Temple had caused chaos to ensue all over Coruscant, and now…

Well, Dooku knew that _something_ had changed, but he did not know what it was.

Either way, he knew exactly where he stood, alone and confused. He’d been in the Republic Senate building many times as a Jedi, and even a few times to visit Darth Sidious when he had been his apprentice.

It was odd to see it now, to _be_ here when he needed to be at the Temple. That was where he _was_ , moments ago.

“Why am I here?” he murmured.

Shaking his head, he turned away from the window to study his surroundings. It appeared as though he was on the ground floor of the building, close to the main entrance, which was strange because the area was empty.

Normally, there would be a crowd rushing around this area, even at this hour. There would be Senators talking to each other, aides rushing the corridors, clone troopers standing guard, and even Jedi.

Now, there was no one.

With a sigh, Dooku began to walk. His steps were slow and certain, echoing oddly around him. The statues and holograms around him seemed to flicker oddly with each of his steps, in a way that was almost a _warning_.

But if he was here, then…

He had an opportunity to strike. Perhaps it would be foolish, but the Jedi had little chance to get to Sidious in time.

Dooku had little choice. He had to confront his old Master.

With that thought in mind, he turned a corner and stopped.

At the other side of the corridor, a lone figure stood—a shadow. It began to move slowly, walking towards Dooku one step at a time. The figure’s footsteps were heavy, echoing through the corridor with finality and precision.

The shadow moved again, stepping into the dim light shining through the window at the middle of the corridor.

The quiet _hiss_ of a lightsaber igniting, followed by a red light.

“Skywalker,” Dooku said, both surprised and not surprised at all.

The boy’s eyes—blank and listless, a golden slate—flicked up to meet Dooku’s, his lips curling into a snarl.

Then, in a quick flash of motion, Skywalker leapt forward, lightsaber at the ready.

* * *

_“_ _What the—?”_

As the whiteness faded away, Ahsoka immediately heard the sound of ringing machines, panicked voices, blaster bolts, and lightsabers. There was also the odd smell of something burning, but she couldn’t figure that out right now.

All she knew was that _somehow_ , she was back in the Halls, in Obi-Wan’s room. Master Yoda stood near the doorway, fighting off the creatures and deflecting blaster bolts, though Ahsoka could see that his motions were slowing, that he wouldn’t last much longer.

In a smooth motion, Ahsoka ignited her lightsaber, standing protectively in front of the bed without turning around once. Blaster bolts cut through the air, and Ahsoka deflected them, carefully avoiding Master Yoda and any of the troopers.

“Ahsoka?” Bant’s shaky voice came from somewhere behind her. Ahsoka spared a glance back, taking in the sight of her friend, and then the still, unmoving form of her Grandmaster on the bed.

So the voice _was_ a part of her imagination, after all. Nothing more.

Obi-Wan was gone—he must have been for a while now.

_I’m so sorry._

“I don’t know how I’m here, but I am,” she managed, igniting her shoto in a smooth motion. The force of the bolts pushed her back and back, until she stood against the edge of the bed, struggling to defend herself against the onslaught.

She heard Bant’s lightsaber ignite from somewhere behind her, and the battle continued.

“What do we do?” Bant asked, shouting over the chaos.

Ahsoka frowned, thinking back to the shrine. She thought that she’d done it, that she’d managed to take the darkness away from the holocron. And from what Dooku had told her, that was supposed to stop the attack.

But it was almost as though _nothing_ happened, as though everything she had done had gone to waste.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” she rasped. There were tears burning in her eyes, and her arms were trembling violently. Ahsoka watched as clone troopers came into view, as the 501st blue stood in the doorway, stealing her breath away.

“Rex?” she whispered.

The blaster bolts came faster and faster. Ahsoka couldn’t keep up at all. She could see Master Yoda kneeling at the doorway now, unable to even lift his blade to defend himself. The creatures were approaching him slowly, lightsabers raised towards his head.

Ahsoka’s stomach twisted as pure dread filled her mind, nearly freezing her where she stood. Then, she reacted.

“ _No_!” she cried, extinguishing her lightsabers and stretching her arms forward, only to be stopped suddenly.

A hand clamped itself on her left shoulder, pulling her back just in time to avoid getting hit by a stray blaster bolt. Then, another hand, covered by a thin medical robe, extended forward.

Ahsoka’s breath hitched as time seemed to go completely still. One by one, the creatures began to lift into the air, as though they were being _pulled_ up by a string. Then, the clones followed suit, silent and still.

The Force swelled with Light, the same sort of Light she remembered from the shrine, before she was transported here.

She heard Bant’s quiet gasp from somewhere behind her and saw Master Yoda’s eyes widen, almost simultaneously.

_But—but this means that…_

Slowly, Ahsoka turned on trembling legs, keeping her hands firmly on the bed so that she wouldn’t fall over. Her breaths stilled in her lungs as shock rushed through her mind.

“Master?” she whispered, voice trembling as she took in the sight in front of her.

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat upright, right hand extended firmly towards the chaos and destruction, eyes glowing white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)))))))))))
> 
> I'll try my best to get the next chapter out soon! Please leave a comment on your way out :)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to check out my [tumblr](https://pandora15.tumblr.com/), where I post frequently about my progress on this fic!
> 
> Thanks again! :)


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